Forgetting Neverland
by KylieRiley
Summary: Canon Divergence from 2x21. Instead of Neal falling through the portal, Emma does. To get back to Storybrooke won't be as simple as she thought, especially when she gets stuck in the past and only has Killian to rely on. A different take on the whole time travel idea. Captain Swan.
1. Chapter 1

**Synopsis:** Takes place after 2x21 when Tamara (I know. It has been a while) throws the magic bean at Emma. Instead of Neal falling into the portal though, Emma does. Only this portal sends Emma back in time. To get back to Storybrooke won't be as simple as she thought, especially when she gets stuck in the past and only has Killian to rely on. Captain Swan. A different take on the whole time travel idea.

 **Disclaimer:** All characters are properly owned by ABC and Once Upon a Time

 **A/N:** I've recently been obsessed with Once Upon a Time and am a huge Captain Swan shipper. I don't know if I'll be able to get through this season without fulfilling my shipper heart. I know the whole time portal idea has been done before, but this is my take on it. Takes place at the end of season two, before Tamara and Greg kidnapped Henry. Rating will probably change.

 **Forgetting Neverland**

" _We were written in the stars, my love. All that separated us was time, the time it took to read the map which was placed within our hearts to find our way back to one another." ~Unknown_

 **Chapter 1**

"It's over."

"No. It's not."

It's the things you can't see coming that are strong enough to kill you. But that's the thing about a crisis. When you're in the middle of one, time often seems to slow to a crawl and you're hyperaware of everything around you. Like one of those out-of-body experiences in which you're detached from your emotions and all you can do is watch yourself drown. Then when everything does finally catch up to you, the situation seems to fast-forward and you literally can't remember what happened between start and finish.

At least, that was how Emma Swan saw it anyway. When Tamara threw the magic bean between her feet, the ground caved way and crumbled around her. She stumbled slightly, startled by the vortex threatening to swallow her whole. Reacting on pure instinct, she jumped, barely managing to latch onto the cheap piece of steel above her. The pipe was no match for the strength of the portal though, and for one heart-stopping moment, the pipe nearly snapped in half, bringing her closer to her impending doom. She held on as if her life depended on it.

 _Her life did depend on it._

She knew nothing good could come from a screaming green vortex of doom. Despite her determination, her fingers slipped. She screamed for Neal, who shouted something she didn't quite catch over the howl of the wind. She wouldn't let go. She _couldn't_ let go. Not now. Not after she had finally started to believe. Not after she had finally found her home, her family—a family who loved her, accepted her for all her flaws and imperfections.

Their faces all flashed before her eyes. _Snow. Charming. Henry…_ Even Neal. She couldn't leave them and yet, her fingers slipped all the same and the strength of the portal sucked her down.

 _She couldn't leave them._

"Emma!" she heard Neal scream but it was too late.

And then suddenly, she was falling.

 _Falling._

Falling down the rabbit hole, to only God knew where. The vortex was unlike anything she experienced before. Something that almost sounded like thunder roared around her and the lightening that followed rocked her to the very core. Some kind of ringing noise filled her head as her bones twisted and turned. She didn't know what was up and what was down.

Then everything went black.

When she woke up sometime later, she could hear the birds chirping happily around her. She groaned and brought a hand to her head. The headache pulsating through her temples would surely be the death of her. She rolled over, hoping to grasp the comfort of her sheets but she only felt stone.

Her eyes snapped open

She saw the stars first, which were breathtakingly beautiful and so close to her that she felt like she could reach up and pluck one from the sky. It was the moons though—five to be exact—that brought her to her feet.

Terrible decision, really. Blood rushed to her head and for one startling moment, she fell back to her knees. She cradled her head in her hands and wondered how hard she had fallen. It felt unbearably heavy, like someone had filled her head with sand. In fact, everything hurt. She couldn't focus, she couldn't think, she couldn't breathe. Her stomach trembled beneath her skin and then with a gasp, she hunched over to empty the contents of it.

When she was done, she managed to open her eyes and groaned at the sight. Like she said, it was the things you couldn't see coming that were strong enough to kill you. Even though she couldn't remember exactly where she was supposed to be, she certainly knew it wasn't here…wherever the hell that was. As far as she could tell, she was in the middle of some forest. With the strange noises and tropical terrain, she had absolutely no idea where the portal had taken her, only knowing that she definitely wasn't in Storybrooke anymore

Despite the humidity in the air, she pulled her black pea coat closer around her. Her haze finally seemed to lift, and as her gaze came into focus, she remembered.

She remembered the fight with that stupid bitch, Tamara, and of course, Neal _._ She tried not to let panic seize her, but it was difficult to keep it at bay, especially considering Tamara had shot Neal…and she had just left him there. What if…

 _No._

She would not go there. Neal was a fighter and so were her parents. They had dealt with villains before and they would deal with them again. Her family would figure this out. They would protect Henry for her until she found a way back to them.

But it wasn't enough to calm her state of mind.

At that moment, all she felt was pain and she fought the urge to cry out. Panic threatened to overwhelm her sanity. But she could fight this. If she could just keep breathing, everything would turn out alright. If she just kept fighting, she would get back to her family. But she was tired, so utterly tired. If she could only keep the darkness, which threatened to swallow her whole, at a distance, then perhaps she could make it through this.

She stood up very slowly, doing her best to avoid the blood rushing back to her head again. The last thing she needed was to pass out.

 _She needed to get back._

Still, given her current state, this would probably be more difficult than she hoped. She leaned against the tree to support her weight. Now all she had to do was figure out where the hell she was. _Damn headache._ She wanted nothing more than to just lie back down and let the darkness take her. Perhaps this was nothing more than a nightmare, a side effect of whatever magic had overcome her. Perhaps if she laid back down and closed her eyes…

A branch snapped behind her and she whirled around, eyes wide open and prepared to fight.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?" an all too familiar voice spoke.

Even though she couldn't see him, she knew that cocky voice anywhere. Never did she think she'd be so happy to see the pirate. "Hook!" she breathed, relief washing over her. Not even bothering to think about the logic of him being there, she made her way towards him.

He stepped out of the clearing, hook and leather jacket in all. "Ah! So you've heard of me!" His whole face lit up but the dark look in his eyes brought her to a halt.

Everything about him was too familiar—his blue eyes, his voice, and that sinful smirk of his as he eyed her up and down. However, there were differences too. For starters, his eyeliner seemed heavier, darker and he had on more jewelry than she was used to seeing him wear. If anything, he seemed more like a, well, pirate. Then her eyes landed on his red vest and that was when she began to panic.

This wasn't the Hook she knew. This wasn't _her_ Hook, which could only mean one thing….

 _No._

Hadn't Gold said time travel was impossible? Wouldn't the whole universe implode or something? Magic beans were supposed to take you to another realm, not to another _time._ Still, she couldn't deny what was right in front of her.

Great, not only did she have to worry about finding a way back home but she now had to worry about not ruining the course of the future.

Then she began to panic. Running into Hook would certainly have its consequences, wouldn't it? Perhaps if she ran now, he would forget this little encounter. Surely he wouldn't remember her however many centuries they meet later…right?"

She took a slow step back. A branch snapped under her weight. The darkness swept in once more, and yet again, she pushed it back.

"What's the rush, love?"

She opened her eyes. _When had she closed them?_ Perhaps she took a harder fall than she originally thought. Killian— _Hook_ —was standing way too close to her now. She could smell him. It made her dizzy. It made her want to lie down. _Damn headache._ But she needed to focus. She needed to get out of here and find her way back. Still, she found herself having a difficult time doing so as the ringing in her ears just wouldn't stop.

"Now…Just where do you think you're going?" He asked, and caught her wrist in his hand. "Surely, a woman as pretty as yourself shouldn't go running through the forest alone without a noble steed to guide her."

A searing pain rushed through her temples, followed by a flash of white light. Hook ignored her clear discomfort; instead, he gently tugged on her wrist and pulled her closer to him. The sudden motion brought the white back to her eyes and she rather stumbled into his arms. He caught her against his chest with a content sigh, and when she looked up at him, she saw his lips tugging upwards into that annoying smirk of his. As much as that stupid smirk annoyed her, she couldn't help but find comfort in his arms. While she would never admit it to him, his presence made her feel safe, even if this wasn't _her_ Hook. Perhaps that was why she let her eyes drift shut.

"Well that's more like it," he said smugly as her head fell heavily onto his chest. She could feel the darkness creeping in, which was making it rather difficult to remember why she had felt so panicked before. Her legs gave out from under her then, but he pulled her right back up.

"Easy there, love." Then more serious, he said, "It appears you've been injured."

His hand graced the back of her head and that was enough to snap her out of her daze. She pushed away from him and stumbled backwards into the tree behind her. A weight rested on her shoulders and she feared if she let go, she would lose herself to the darkness that threatened to drown her. But then an image of Henry flashed in the back of her mind.

 _She had to get back._

She also needed to get away from _him_ , Hook, before she could affect the future. _His_ future, really. She hated to think of the world imploding because she had gone and got herself literally stuck in the past. Still, when she glanced over at Hook and saw double of him, she didn't think she would make it very far if she tried to run.

 _Huh._ Was the world swaying or was that just her?

"You've hit your head, love," he stated. "Let me help you."

She had a weird sense of déjà vu then and her mind flashed to an image of them at the top of the beanstalk. "What?" she forced out, desperately trying to remain focused on the task at hand.

She couldn't let him see how much pain she was really in or how nauseous she felt. However, judging from the look on his face, she figured she was doing an incredibly poor job at convincing him otherwise.

He pointed to her head and on impulse her hand went up to touch it. She wasn't terribly surprised to find her hand smeared with blood. Well, that would explain the headache and nausea. She probably had a concussion.

 _Great. Just great._

"Killian…" She said softly.

His face paled, like he'd seen a ghost. It took her awhile to catch her mistake. _Killian._ She had called him Killian. Judging by the looks of it, that was not a name he went by here. Before she could even offer an explanation, he had her pressed up against the tree with his hook pressed into her throat.

"He sent you, didn't he?" he sneered. When she didn't answer him, he shouted again and pressed his hook a tad deeper into her skin. "Tell me who sent you!"

In reality, she probably should have been much more scared of him. The way his eyes dilated into thin black slits told her he would not hesitate to slit her throat if he saw fit. After all, in this world—whatever, wherever that was—he was a true pirate. Finally, she saw him as the villain he claimed to be and still, she did not fear him.

She didn't know if she was merely brave or stupid. Perhaps a little of both.

Maybe if she could think straight, she would have feared _this_ Hook. Maybe if she hadn't hit her head, she wouldn't have even ended up int this predicament. Before she could answer him, the ringing in her ears grew so loud that tiny black dots began to form at the corner of her eyes.

"Answer me damn it!"

But she couldn't because the darkness had won and she found herself falling. _Falling._ Falling once more down the rabbit hole. This time though, there was no thunder or flashes of color. This time there was only darkness.

-x-

Killian did not know what to do about the blond beauty in his arms. Braver men than he had cowered from his hook, yet she hardly batted an eye. He supposed her lack of fear had more to do with her head wound than anything else. She wasn't in the right state of mind, he told himself. When she woke, she was going to fear him. He'd make sure of that.

But she had known his name and that terrified the living daylights out of him.

 _Killian_

The way she said it had bothered him too.

 _Killian_

Like she knew him.

 _Killian_

Like she _cared_.

He shook his head. That was impossible for he had never seen her before in his life. At least, he didn't think so. He had come across many bar wenches in his days but he had never given them his real name—no matter how much rum was involved. Not many called him by his given name anymore, not since, well, Milah.

The blond woman in his arms stirred. Her scent intoxicated him. It made him dizzy. He felt desire pool in his trousers at the thought of all the things they could do together. In fact, he could not remember the last time he had been with a woman and suddenly, the very thought was overwhelming.

"Seven hells!" he cursed.

This was exactly what Pan wanted. Why else would such a beautiful young maiden wander through the forest alone? He should have just left her there and let Neverland take her. He had honestly thought about it, though in the end he decided against it. If Pan really had sent her then he could use her as leverage and get some answers. Perhaps she was the way to finally destroying that wretched boy. Still, he couldn't stop the unsettling feeling in the back of his mind. If Pan had truly wanted to destroy him, then why hadn't he sent this creature in the form of Milah instead?

Not that there weren't _any_ women on Neverland. There was of course, Tiger Lily and her people. That selfish fairy, Tink. The mermaids as well, though he didn't particularly count them and he shuddered at the thought. Terrible creatures, no matter how beautiful they appeared to be. On Neverland it was mostly just the pirates and the Lost Boys, so you could imagine the cheers he received when he carried the unconscious woman, bridal style, onto his ship.

"No one touches her, that's an order." They answered him with dumb stares. Naturally, he added, "Do not let her beauty fool you, mates. She's in the works with Pan."

He didn't know if that was exactly true or not. It worked though. He took pleasure at seeing the fear swell within his crewmates' eyes. Yes, he wouldn't have to tell them twice…well, at least not all of them anyway. He held his gaze just a tad bit longer on Lester, daring the ugliest of his crew to challenge him. Like always, though, he won and Lester took a defeated step back.

"Captain!" A short man with a red cap rushed to his side. "Do you really think it's a good idea to have her on board the ship?" Smee casted a skeptical look at the woman passed out in his arms.

"Are you questioning the Captain's orders, Smee?" he said louder than necessary.

Smee pulled off his cap and hung his head in shame. "No Captain! Not at all. Please forgive me… I was just worried—"

"Worry elsewhere, Smee. I don't have time for this. Go get the young lad for me."

"Eh…yes! Captain. I do apologize. I'll go fetch him for you."

Killian carried the woman far below the decks to the holding cell and placed her on the cot. He didn't need to touch her to know that she was burning up, for he could see how flushed she had become. A thin line of sweat had formed on her skin and her hairline had grown damp. He caressed her forehead anyway and frowned at the heat pulsating off from her. He wondered why the bloody hell she would wear something so warm. He pealed the jacket off her, pleasantly surprised (and slightly disappointed) to find her wearing some weird shirt with the thinnest sleeves he had ever seen. In fact, he thought her whole outfit strange. He wondered what realm she even hailed from.

Using his hook, he examined the gash on the back of her head. She would have a terrible headache tomorrow, but she would live he decided. He debated whether he should clean the wound out or not. He eventually decided that she would be no use to him dead.

"Bloody waste," he hissed as he dumped the remainder of his rum onto his scarf.

He cleaned her cut until the blood unmatted from her hair and turned his scarf red. He had to admit, she had beautiful hair, with long and beautiful golden locks…He had a strange sense to run his hand through them and…

"Captain?" a small voice spoke from behind him.

Killian stood abruptly at the sound of the small voice. If it had been anyone else he would have barked out orders until he saw fear in their eyes, but it was only the young lad. Killian took one last look at his prisoner before locking her in the cell.

"You were looking for me?" the boy said.

"Ah, yes. I want you to watch over her and come get me when she wakes."

The kid looked skeptically at her. "…But you said she's working for Pan."

"Don't worry, lad. She's behind bars. You'll watch her?"

The kid stood up straighter then, eager to please the Captain no doubt. "Aye! Of course."

Killian grinned. "That's the spirit!" Then he ruffled the kid's curls before heading towards the stairs.

"Oh and Baelfire?"

The boy turned back to him, wide-eyed and full of so much hope.

"No one but you or I come near her. You understand?"

"Aye! Yes, Captain."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Emma awoke to an excruciating headache and to what seemed like a whole symphony of noises as an alarm. The noises were foreign to her, unsettling even, and her eyes snapped open at the unfamiliar sounds. She blinked several times in an attempt to clear her sight, but she only saw darkness. When she finally accepted that she wasn't where she was supposed to be, her sense of feeling returned in a rush of harsh and unexpected agony.

Panic.

It shot through her with every shaky breath. It threatened to overwhelm her sanity. It could have been hours or mere minutes before she finally accepted the fact that she was not where she was suppose to be. Then she remembered.

Neal, Tamara, the fight, the portal, waking up somewhere strange, Hook… _Hook!_

She sat straight up and immediately regretted it. Pain surged through her, fixating right at her temples. Her hand shot up to her forehead, doing her best to massage her headache away. Still, she felt a thousand times better than she had before she passed out. She had absolutely no idea how long she had been out for. Judging from her whereabouts, it had certainly been sometime.

She stood up, slowly at first. When she was sure she wasn't going to topple over like some helpless damsel in distress, she began to pace. Of course, it did her little good, as the cell was so small _._ It made the jail cell back in Storybrooke look like a palace. She ran a hand through her hair and let out a heavy sigh.

"Okay. Think, Emma. Just think," she whispered to herself. She jumped, shook out her arms and did her best to rid herself of the inner turmoil screaming insider her.

The floorboards creaked in protest then, seemingly moving from under her. Not use to the swaying of the ocean, she lost her balance and fell clumsily into the handlebars. So she was clearly on Hook's ship…what did he call it again, the Rolly Jolly? She let out a heavy sigh. How was she ever going to get out of this predicament? Honestly, it amazed her that the timeline hadn't imploded…yet. Surely, this meeting would somehow screw up the future and she almost feared of what she'd find in Storybrooke when she returned.

"I see you haven't found your sea legs quite yet. You'll get used to it, love."

Hating herself, she jumped. She had not seen him, for the shadows hid him well, and he had the astounding ability to keep quiet. However, if she looked hard enough, she could see him there in the far corner of the room. She should have known and she hated herself for letting her guard down so easily, even if it had been for only a moment. She had learned at a very young age that there was always something there, somewhere, struggling to make its presence known.

She heard the spark of a match. Once the flame grew bright enough, she could see him lounged in a chair, legs spread wide, hook out and staring at her with a look even she couldn't quiet place. In his right hand, he twirled a coin between his fingers. She watched him turn it effortlessly and gracefully over his knuckles before it disappeared into the palm of his hand.

Huh. So Hook was good at magic tricks. Who would have thought?

"Morning, love." Then he took four long strides across the cabin, until only the handlebars separated them. She forced herself to not step back. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. He smirked at her once more before he leaned down and looked straight into her eyes. "Or should I say _Emma_? That is your name, is it not?"

 _Shit. Shit. Shit._

He must have taken her silence for a yes.

"Tell me, Emma. Do you think all your thoughts out loud?"

He knew her name. This was bad, so very bad. As he looked her up and done, she could practically see him burning an image of her in the back of his mind. Great. Just great. Clearly, things weren't going in her favor. How the hell would she make him forget all this? She couldn't very well blame it on the rum this time, now could she, and it was not like she could make him forget this…

Then it hit her.

That was _exactly_ what she would do. If she could get him to take her home, then she could get Gold or perhaps Blue to make him a memory potion. Wouldn't be hard…right? Perhaps the odds were in her favor after all.

"Emma," he said, testing the name on his lips. Then again, "Emma." This time he smiled. "You have a last name I take it, _Emma?_ "

She rolled her eyes. _That,_ he certainly did not need to know. "Where am I?" she asked him instead.

"Why the Jolly Roger of course!" he told her cheerfully.

She glared at him. "You know what I meant."

He raised an eyebrow at her in slight disbelief. "You really don't know?"

"Would I be asking if I did?"

He thought about her question much longer than he needed to and she wondered what was going through that pirate head of his.

"I don't know. You tell me."

Trying a different angle, she smiled up at him. "I'm not from this realm," she said this as sweetly as she could. Perhaps if she played the bar wench he desired, he would let her go. She reached through the bars to run her hand up his arm. She felt him quiver at her touch.

 _Typical._

"Aye," he said. "Not many are."

She wondered what he could possibly mean by that. Before she could ask though, he leaned in closer and she leaned with him. For a moment, she actually thought he was going to kiss her, but then he reached through the bars, took a hold of her wrist and twisted it painfully out from her, pulling her violently towards him. She winced at the uncomfortable position he had put her in. If he wanted to, he could break her arm in an instant. She hated him for it.

He placed his lips just next to her ear. "Do you want to know what I think?" he said, his voice suddenly hostile.

"You're going to tell me anyway," she hissed back.

"I think Pan sent you."

She couldn't help herself. She busted out a laugh. "As in _Peter Pan?"_ At the confused look on his face, she realized he was serious. He clearly didn't find it funny at all for he yanked up on her arm, causing her to curse out in pain. "Ow! Jesus, Hook. Let. Me. Go! _"_

Surprisingly, he did. He ran his hand through his hair as if deeply trouble by her presence. "See! There you go again. Acting like we know each other."

"So we are in Neverland," she said, desperately trying to change the subject. She supposed it made sense with him being Captain frickin Hook and all.

"You know my name," he said, pulling her back on track. He cocked his head to the side and studied her. "Are you a fairy?"

"What…? No…" She gripped the bars and gave them a shake. They didn't even budge.

"Then you're a witch. Or worse, a mermaid?"

She glared at him. "Would you let me out already? I'm not going anywhere."

Then he did something so very cliché of him, as he locked his blue eyes with hers and gave her that smug smirk of his. She watched as he produced a small key from the inside of his jacket pocket. He held it up to her face, taunting her. When she went to snatch it, he pulled it back and tucked it safely back in his jacket pocket.

"Aye, love, I could. But you see, this cage is for your protection."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. "My protection?" she asked dryly.

"Well, you see it's been a very, _very_ long time since my crew has had the good fortune to be in the company of a woman...get my drift?"

That got her attention and for one brief moment, she let him see her fear. "You wouldn't."

"Who would I be to stop them? My men have needs after all."

He was lying, she knew, for she could see it in his eyes. He was trying to pull a reaction out of her. Still, she couldn't help herself from hesitating. _This_ Hook didn't know who she was. _This_ Hook did not care for her or try to win her over. _This_ Hook thought she was in the works with a child.

"I can take care of myself," she said finally.

"Whether that is true or not, I don't think we should take the chance. Wouldn't you agree? You know, for your own safety." He smirked at her again.

"It's called trust. You should try it sometime," she snapped, throwing his own words back at him. What do you know, of all the things she could have said, that knocked the smile right off his face.

"If you'll excuse me, I believe I have more important matters to attend to."

 _No._

He couldn't leave. As much as she hated to admit it, he was her _only_ chance of getting back to her family. Whether she liked it or not, she needed his help. She couldn't stand the thought of being locked away down here, helpless while her family…

"Damn it, Hook!" She gripped the handlebars and shouted at him but he just kept walking.

"Don't fret, love. I'll be back."

 _Think Emma. Think._ But that was the problem, wasn't it? Thinking like Emma would do her no good, but perhaps thinking like a pirate…

"Parley!" she shouted, taking one hell of a giant leap.

He paused and then whirled around to meet her gaze. "Come again?"

Perhaps that was only a "movie thing" but she could see the glare casted on his face and she knew this wasn't just something Disney had made up. "I invoke the right of parley," she stated again, her voice sounding much more confident than she actually felt.

Then he was right up in front of her again. He was so close she could smell the rum on his breath. His leather jacket graced her fingers, but she didn't dare back down, she _wouldn't_ let him win. Damn him. He was just as cocky, if not more, than the Killian she had left behind in Storybrooke.

"And what would you know about parley, Princess?"

"I'm no Princess." _Oh, if he only knew._

He looked her up and down. Then very carefully, he reached through the bars and twirled a lock of her hair between his fingers. "Aye, that you aren't." He let her curl fall from his grasp before tucking it behind her ear. He caressed her cheek and she tried to ignore the urge to swat his hand away. "And you haven't answered the question, love."

She hesitated. She had seen the movie a thousand times—she could recite it by memory. Sometimes it seemed like _Pirates of the Caribbean_ was the only movie Henry ever wanted to watch. "If an adversary demands parley, you can do me no harm until the parley is complete." She locked his eyes with her, daring him to back down.

"Ah, so you are admitting we are enemies then. How would such a pretty lass come to know about a pirate's code?"

"Does it really matter?"

"And what makes you think I'll hold up to my end of the bargain?"

"Honor," she challenged.

"Aye, hasn't anyone told you to never trust a pirate?" he said huskily and she could practically see the sinful thoughts running through his mind.

 _Yes. You, actually. "_ Perhaps."

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally pulled away with a frustrated sigh. "Damn the depths whatever muttonhead thought up parley," Hook muttered under his breath and this time, it was her turn to smirk.

"That would be the French."

He gave her exasperated look. "What?"

She reached through the handlebars and grasped his hand. "Please. I just want to go home. If you help me get back to my realm, I'll help you."

He eyed her hand in his and she watched as several conflicting emotions played across his face. "Aye…and what could you give me?" he finally questioned.

"Anything," she pleaded.

His whole face lit up in such a devilish way, she scoffed. Perhaps this was a terrible idea after all. He raised an eyebrow at her and ran a finger over his lips. "Anything?" he questioned. There was no doubt in her mind at what he was suggesting; she just couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. She doubted it, but she would not give him the satisfaction of winning whatever _this_ was.

"You couldn't handle it," she shot back.

If he got any closer he would be joining her in the cell. "Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it?"

She eyed him for all of five seconds.

 _Screw it._

She grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him down to her. She knew she had shocked him and she couldn't help but take pride in that. After all, she didn't think there were too many people who had bested Captain Hook. _But damn him._ If a simple kiss was the only thing standing in her way of getting back home, well, then so be it.

It didn't take him very long to realize what was happening because suddenly his fingers were tangled in her hair and pulling her as close as she could actually get to him without literally going through the handlebars. She felt his hook trace down her spine, coming to rest on her hip. Then he deepened the kiss with such passion and lust that her heart did a little flip inside her chest. Only when they stopped to catch their breath did she break away. He rested his forehead on hers and she rested her hands on his chest. She could feel his heart, pounding to the beat of her own. _But this wasn't her Hook._

"That was…" he trailed off breathlessly.

"A onetime thing," she managed. Then very gently, she pushed him away from her, "Now help me get home."

He turned away from her. Then dumbstruck, her eyes grew wide at the realization he was leaving her locked in there.

"Where are you going!" she shouted at him.

"Sorry, lass. Like I said, it's for your protection."

"Bullshit!"

"You kiss with that mouth, love? Definitely not a Princess," he said, smirking.

She glared at him. "Parley," she hissed. "Do your part of the deal and help me get home."

"Trust me, lass, if I knew a way off this Godforsaken island, I wouldn't even be here right now. I'm afraid you're stuck here, just like the rest of us."

"Hook!" She shouted at him but he just kept walking, leaving her alone in an empty cell.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Emma watched Hook disappear up the ladder without even giving her a second glance. _Bastard!_ He had warned her though, hadn't he? Never trust a pirate. Yeah. Well, two could play this game. She stood very still and listened carefully as the floorboards creaked above her. His footsteps eventually faded away until she could hear nothing but the turning of the ship.

It roared and heaved around her, shouting protests as it pushed its way through rough waters. She listened carefully, only focusing on the footsteps above. She needed to be sure that Hook hadn't changed his mind because, damn it, she would—could—not leave this up to chance. If she was going to get out of this mess, she had to plan carefully. She already screwed things up so far and if Hook wasn't her answer, then she would just have to find her own.

Sometime later, when she was sure Hook was somewhere way above deck, she let out a long breath and allowed herself to relax. He wasn't coming back. At least not tonight, anyway. Then smirking, she unclenched her fist and stared at the tiny brass key in the palm of her hand.

Perhaps she had a little pirate in her after all.

If there was one thing Neal had taught her, it was how to pickpocket someone and get away with it. Hook hadn't even noticed as she slipped her hand into his leather jacket. Really, she would have thought better of him than to hide the key in plain sight. It had been easy. In fact, it had been so easy, she wondered if she had even grabbed the right key.

Holding her breath, she reached her arm through the gate and found the hole. The key slid in effortlessly.

 _Perfect Match._

She nearly yelped with joy when she heard the soft click of the gate unlocking. Then with a gentle tap, she pushed it open.

Her triumph did not last. To her, the creaking of the ladder sounded like an alarm blaring throughout the cabin, alerting everybody on board that she was trying to escape. Quickly, she slammed the gate shut and locked herself back inside. Just as she was tucking the key into her back pocket, her unwelcome visitor reached the last step. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw that it was only a boy.

"Oh!" she said, surprised. She had been expecting a crewman or even Hook himself, certainly not a child.

The boy held a lantern in front of him. Until then, she hadn't realized just how dark it was down there. There were no windows, which could only mean they were at the base of the ship. Of course, that would make sneaking out a little more difficult than she originally hoped, but then again, was there anything about her predicament that would be easy?

"I was told to bring you food," the boy said. He set the lantern down and then handed her what appeared to be a loaf of bread. He smiled at her. "Don't worry. It's not poison." To prove it, he ripped off a piece and ate some himself. "See?"

"Thanks, kid." Until that moment, she hadn't realized how hungry she was. Her stomach growled in protest at the smell. It took all her manners not to shove the whole thing in her mouth. And then she remembered where she was and who she was with, so she did exactly that. Never had she thought stale bread could taste so good.

"I can bring you more if you'd like."

Much to her dismay, the kid heaved himself onto the upturned barrel across from her cell. Apparently, he was here to keep her company as well. Figures. She supposed she should wait until the pirates all went to bed to sneak out anyway. Surely, that must be soon. To her, it seemed like the night was dragging out forever.

The boy looked to be about Henry's age. In fact, he reminded her so much of Henry.

 _Henry._

She felt her heart pinch at the thought of the family she had left behind in Storybrooke. _I'm coming back, Kid. Don't give up on me yet._

"Do you have a name?"

"Elizabeth," she blurted out, praying that Hook had not told his crewmates otherwise. Then she rolled her eyes at herself. Really. She couldn't have thought of a better name than Elizabeth? _Elizabeth Swan_. When she got home, she was definitely banning that movie.

He stood then and reached his hand through the handlebars. "Baelfire. Though most call me, Bae."

She sputtered, nearly chocking on the bread in the process. Her eyes found his unerringly fast. At first, she refused to believe it. This wasn't possible. Still, as she took him all in, she wondered how she hadn't realized it the moment she saw him. This kid practically was Henry. Of course, his hair was darker, curlier and his nose wasn't quiet as round as Henry's, but everything else screamed Henry and she wondered how she hadn't seen it before.

"Neal?" she whispered in disbelief.

"Sorry… I didn't catch that."

"Eh…nothing." She shook her head. If this didn't qualify as messing up the timeline then she didn't know what did. Perhaps Neal just wouldn't remember her in the future?

Then a sad smile tugged at the corner of her lips. How many times had she asked Neal about his childhood?

She could remember how much he had hurt her when she had first asked him about it. For the first time in her life, she had hated that stupid gift of hers. Neal had lied straight to her face and she had let him. Instead of calling him out, she had swallowed the pain and accepted it. But you know, sometimes when you don't ask questions, it was not because you were afraid that someone would lie. It was because you were afraid they would tell you the truth.

"You're not evil," Neal—no, Bae. Here, he had to be Bae—interrupted her thoughts.

"What makes you so sure?"

A shadow casted over his face. "Because I've seen darkness before and it's not you." She smiled sadly at him, knowing all too well who he was talking about. "Did Pan's shadow bring you here too?"

She shook her head. "I'm honestly not really sure how I got here. I just know I have to get home."

"Where's home?"

"A land faraway from here." Then a light-bulb went off inside her head. If Hook wouldn't help her, then perhaps Neal—Bae—would. "Hey, Kid. Hook said there's no way off this island. Do you really believe that?"

"That's not entirely true," Bae admitted. He dropped his eyes and she knew that look anywhere. It was the look Henry gave her when he wasn't telling her the whole truth.

"Tell me," she pleaded. He looked away from her and shifted, clearly uncomfortable with her pleading. " _Please._ I have a son…he's about your age. I need to get back to him."

"I can't let you out," he told her sadly. "They would kick me off the ship and—"

"Woah! Kid. Slow down. I'm not asking you to let me out. I'm asking how to get off the island."

He stared at her for an incredibly long time. Clearly, stubbornness ran in the family. Though, there was another side of him she hadn't seen before. He seemed softer, less judgmental and more trusting than the Neal she knew. Now she finally understood where Henry got his sweet side from. Because, let's face it, he certainly didn't get it from her.

"The only way to get off the island is through Pan."

Well, perhaps this wouldn't be so hard to get back after all. She chuckled to herself. Who would have thought that _Peter Pan_ would be her ticket off the island.

"Could you take me to him?"

Neal-No, _Bae_ -practically fell off the barrel. "Are. You. Crazy!?" he shouted at her, fear clearly evident in his voice. Then he slowly began to retreat from her. "You are working with him… aren't you? This was all just some trick. You're going to take me to him."

She wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him.

 _Peter Pan was a child!_

"No! I'm sorry. Wait… don't leave. _Please._ You have to tell me where I can find him."

But the damaged had already been done.

"Bae!" she shouted but it was of no use.

She sighed. Looks like she had to figure this out on her own.

-x-

"Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me," Killian sung to himself as he came down the ladder. Night had fallen. To say he was pleased in a long day's work was an understatement. Not only had his crew returned with treasures from the island, but he also had something that belonged to Pan. Well, at least he still thought she was in the works with Pan. And as good company as she was, he really needed her to start talking. This time her pretty face wasn't going to stop him.

"Emma, love. Did you miss me?"

He froze.

"Bloody hell!"

 _Empty._

The cell was empty. He raced to it, thinking he was imagining things. His hand shot to his jacket pocket and froze. Empty. How in the world… His fingers brushed his lips and he laughed in disbelief. And here he had thought that kiss had actually meant something.

"Looking for this?"

He didn't have anytime to react. The savage blow knocked him completely off his feet. Before he even had time to comprehend what was happening, the gate swung shut. Then he heard the soft click of the key. His hand automatically shot for his sword, but it wasn't there. He glanced up at her, only to find her smirking down at him and holding _his_ sword. His brother's sword to be specific.

 _She took his bloody sword._

He hadn't felt such rage, anger, resentment in a very long time, and yet, as he watched her toss the sword effortlessly up in the air and give it a practice swing, he couldn't deny that he was also a little bit impressed. So she knew how to wield a weapon.

 _Interesting._

Really though, this only confirmed his suspicions of her and Pan working together. Oh, how he was going to love making her pay for this. He let out something between a laugh and a frustrated sigh. She held the key up to him, taunting him, very much like he had done to her only hours ago. Very slowly, he rose to his feet.

"Good for you," he said, a mix between annoyance and astonishment. "You bested me. I can count the amount of people who've done that on one hand."

She smiled at him with triumph. "Is that supposed to be funny?" she asked, humor finding its way into her voice.

He leaned against the bars. Much to his pleasure and slight annoyance, she didn't step back. How about that parley, love?" he caressed her arm loving. Really, all he wanted to do was wring her neck. Nobody touched his sword— _his brother's sword._

 _Nobody._

"As tempting as that is, someone advised me to never trust a pirate," she said, shaking him off her.

"And who the devil might that be?" This time, he really did laugh. "See. I knew there was a little bit of pirate in you."

That only seemed to ignite her fire and she flashed that pretty smile of hers back at him. She clearly enjoyed a challenge too. Even though she had somehow managed to lock him in there, he couldn't help but admire her for it. He wasn't lying. Not many men were brave enough to stand up to him, yet she…she hardly gave it a second thought. Then again, if she truly was from a different realm, as she claimed to be, then she wouldn't have heard the rumors about him. He paused. But she had known his name.

 _Killian._ She had said it, safe inside her mouth. _Killian._ Like she cared. She intrigued him. Really, it was a pity he was going to have to drown her.

"I could shout right now and my men would all come running," he said, carefully eyeing the sword.

"Go ahead. Scream. I'll be off this ship before someone lets you out."

"Is that so?" He smirked at her. He very much doubted that, for he knew one thing that she did not, and unless she chose to swim ashore, she wasn't getting off this ship. And let's face it, taking a swim might as well be suicide when it came to Neverland. "And where do you plan on going?"

"To find, Pan."

The smirk fell off his face. The disappointment shot through him like a knife. "So I was right about you. You are helping him."

She shook her head. "No. I was told he's the only way off the island."

He wasn't sure why, but he believed her. She wasn't working for Pan, he could see that now. He supposed he didn't have to kill her after all. If she wasn't working for Pan then something else fueled her spirit. No sane person would willingly go find that wretched boy. That, well, was simply crazier than taking a swim with the mermaids.

Suddenly, everything seemed to click into place. So she had a lover back home. Shame really. He did always like a challenge. "To your lover?"

She eyed him in disgust. "What? No. I need to get back to my _son_."

 _But no lover?_ Couldn't say he was unhappy about it. "Why don't you unlock the cage, love, and we can renegotiate our terms?" Because he just couldn't help himself, he brought a finger to his lips and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"You had your chance," she shot back. "I'm sorry, Hook. Really, I am. One day, you'll forgive me for this."

He griped the handlebars with his good hand. "What the bloody hell does that mean?!"

She flashed him one last smile of hers before disappearing up the ladder. Right about then is when he started to shout. He kicked the cage and shook it with all his might, but it didn't even budge. He shouted at her to return and unlock the cell this instance, but she didn't even give him a second glance.

 _Damn her._

Damn her for her beautiful hair, pretty eyes and clever wits. Damn her for that kiss. Damn her for making him forget about Milah.

 _Milah_.

How had he forgotten about Milah? Perhaps he could find reasoning in the blond's death after all.

There was a loud crash from somewhere above him. If that didn't wake his crew, then he didn't know what would. He could hear his men stirring above him, giving cries of shouts, as they startled awake from the crash. Then came the sounds of a sword clashing against another sword, followed by feet pounding across the deck. _She was running._ He shouted for his crew again to hurry the hell up. Finally, Baelfire came sliding down the ladder.

"What in seven hells is going on up there!?"

"She's escaping!" Baelfire said frantically as he struggled to find the right key. "She took Lester by surprise! She's fast"

Of all his crewmen, Lester, was the best at sword fighting. He had severely underestimated her. "Hurry up, lad!"

The key had just barely 'clicked' before he barreled through the gate, practically running over Bae in the process. He raced up the stairs and onto the deck. Compared to the decks below, the fresh air was a pleasant welcoming, though the sight of some of his crew shouting and running about was not.

"Bloody hell!" he cursed the stragglers. "You let a woman best you!?"

He supposed it wasn't their fault. After all, she had bested him as well—not that his crew needed to know that. The anger burning inside him was very real and he needed to take it out on someone. So he grabbed Boyles by the scruff of the neck.

"Where. Is. She?" he hissed.

Hook followed Boyles' finger to the bow of the ship.

"Aye," Hook muttered, finally spotting her. Then without a care in the world, he threw his crewmate to the ground.

She was standing on the railing with the rest of his motley crew huddle around her. They taunted cruel things at her and threatened what they planned on doing to her if she choose not to jump. Hook rolled his eyes at them. Idiots. All of them.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, love," he spoke up, coming to a slow walk.

At the sound of his voice, his men immediately stopped their jesting. She shot him a nervous look over her shoulder. There it was again. _That_ look in her eyes. Nobody had looked at him like that in a very, very long time.

"Unless you have a death wish that is," he added.

She stood dangerously close to the edge of the railing. Much to his horror, she peered over it, no doubt thinking through her options. They were fairly close to shore. Even if she could swim, she would never make it. the mermaids would drown her before she even made it a couple feet. He couldn't even begin to comprehend why she was thinking about this. He knew they were pirates, but surely, pirates were a better fate than what laid below the sea.

Then it hit him.

 _She didn't know._

His men snickered around him.

She didn't even look at him as she spoke. "I'm sorry. I have to get home to my son."

Then she jumped.

 _Bloody hell. One of these days he was going to stop chasing this woman._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! Was going to update yesterday but got distracted watching the Oscars. (Yeah, Leo!)**

 **Chapter 4**

Emma took one long look at the land and then at the pirates jeering behind her. Honestly, she had known the minute she locked Hook in the cell that she would swim to shore if she had to. Judging by the looks of it, she didn't seem to have a choice. Thankfully, it didn't seem too far away and she was a good swimmer.

She shot him an apologetic look because, really, she was sorry they had met like this and that she had undoubtedly screwed up their futures in some way shape or form. She couldn't think about that though. Not Now. She could deal with Hook and his memories later. The only thing that mattered was finding her way back to Henry.

Then she jumped.

She landed with a loud splash, the water hitting her like a punch to the stomach. It was such a warm night that she had not expected the water to be so cold, and for a moment, all she saw was black. Nothing like she thought an ocean from Neverland would be like. No, this seemed more fitting for a nightmare.

When she was a child, she had almost drowned. One of her foster parents' kids had pushed her into a pool and because she never had a stable home, she had never learned to swim. She remembered sinking to the bottom, strangely calm. She couldn't swim at that age, yet everything about it seemed so vaguely familiar to her. Of course it had, for she had learned a long time ago that you didn't need water to feel like you were drowning.

She couldn't remember who had pulled her out, though she did remember waking up in a hospital bed with yet another social worker ready to take her away. Apparently, that foster family couldn't handle someone as "troubled" as herself. She didn't even mention the couple's son who had pushed her in. She let them believe what they wanted to believe because they wouldn't have taken her side anyway. They never did.

Thankfully, her next foster family paid for her swimming lessons.

Just as she broke through the surface, she heard a splash from behind her. She groaned. _Was he serious?_ Why couldn't he just let her go? He had given her the same look on top of the beanstalk as he had right before she jumped. A look she knew all too well. A look of distrust, shock and betrayal. Then she reminded herself that past Hook and future Hook were still the same person, even if three hundred years separated the two.

Hook would get over it.

His determination only seemed to fuel something within her. She would not let him lock her back in that cage. She had to get back to Henry. So she swam faster, harder. She pushed pass the burning sensation in her shoulders, she ignored the water finding its way to the back of her throat, and she fought off the tiredness overcoming her.

Just a little further…

Something latched onto her ankle then and she felt a gentle tug. _No._ She whirled around, prepared to fight but nobody was behind her. Then she heard Hook shout her name and she froze.

He was too far away. In fact, he wasn't even close to her at all. If he hadn't grabbed her ankle then who had? Then suddenly, something pulled her under so violently that she didn't even have time to take a breath. She used every ounce of energy and strength she possessed. She could fight this. She kicked her captive with all the force she could muster and pushed for the surface. She broke through, gasping for air and spewing back the mouth full of water.

That was when she saw the tail.

It splashed only a couple feet away from her before disappearing under the water. _Mermaids?_ The creature pulled her under once again. As the light above the surface grew smaller and the darkness grew darker, she began to lose hope that she would ever make it back to her son.

 _Forgive me Henry._

-x-

They all raced to the edge of the ship, himself included. Killian let out a sigh of relief when he saw her resurface.

"Get me a rope!" he shouted. When they all just stared at him, he raised his voice. "Well, just don't stand there! She's our ticket off this island. Now somebody go get me a bloody rope!"

Just like that, his crewmen scattered, shouting at each other as they went. It didn't surprise him that it was Baelfire who brought him the rope he had requested.

"Captain! You… you can't go in there! They'll drown you too!"

"Out of the way, lad!"

 _One of these days he was going to stop chasing this woman_.

Then he jumped. Of course, he knew the waters would be cold, but it still knocked the wind from him all the same. He could see her a couple yards away from him. If he swam fast enough, he just might be able to reach her before he ran out of rope.

When he saw the tail, he began to panic. He shouted her name and surprisingly, she stopped to turn to him. The fear spreading across her face was one he wouldn't forget anytime soon. _She didn't know._ He watched her go under, surprised to find fear sneaking its way into his own heart. If he had truly stopped to think about it, he would have told himself that he did not know this woman. She meant nothing to him. She was certainly no princess, so it was not like he could ransom her. Not to mention, he understood now that she wasn't working for Pan.

Really, he should have let her drown.

But he wasn't thinking, so he sucked in a deep breath and dove. The water was terribly murky, barely any light filtered down. He couldn't see her, couldn't see anything. It was so dark that he almost swam into her before he saw her. She was awake, barely, and struggling to hold her breath. He grabbed her and kicked for the surface.

" _Mermaids_?" she sputtered at him, coughing back water in the process.

She said this as if the bloody creatures were straight from a fairytale. He raised his eyebrows at her, questioning her sanity. She clearly had not been in Neverland very long. "Told you not to jump, love," he told her, somehow managing a cheeky grin. Then he tightened his hold on her waist. "Unless you want to drown, I suggest you hold on."

She clung to him. He couldn't lie. He certainly was no hero but there was something strangely rewarding about saving someone's life. He gave a gentle tug on the rope and much to slowly for his liking, his crew began to pull them back to the ship.

"Are you okay?" he asked her. He could see she was frightened.

"What?" she snapped. Then just liked that, her walls went back up around her. He saw her look back towards the shore, no doubt thinking how close they were.

"You won't make it," he stated, reading her thoughts. Then sarcastically he offered, "Mermaids…lovey creatures. Wouldn't you agree?"

She chuckled at that. "That's exactly what they are from where I'm from," she told him, completely serious. When she was little, that was all she wanted to be. She could remember watching _The Little Mermaid_ thousands of times, envying Ariel for being able to swim off to wherever her heart desired.

Hook gave her incredulous look. "And where is—"

But he never got the words out. He managed to swallow a mouthful of water as the mermaids dragged them down once more. He could feel the rope around his waist, no doubt the result of his crewmates desperately trying to pull him back to the ship. He had to give them credit. They were loyal…even if they weren't the brightest bunch. All their strength combined could not have saved them from this fate. Under the sea, they were outnumbered.

Just as he accepted his fate, a soft glow began to radiate in front of him. Hope, shock and even a little bit of horror, swept over him when he realized that the glow was coming from _her_. More specifically, it was coming from her _heart._ The dark waters suddenly lit up around them and he could see all the wretched creatures around them. Eventually the light grew so bright that he had to shield his eyes with his arms. Then something he could only describe as a shockwave pulsated out of her and across the ocean floor. It shook the waters, casting waves as it went, and sending the mermaids retreating along with it. He took the chance, grabbed her and kicked for the surface.

He didn't dare look at her, not exactly sure what he feared to see. Then he felt her head fall heavily on his shoulder and for a moment, he thought she had passed out.

As they collapsed on deck, spewing back water, his crewmen swarmed around him. They cheered and patted him on the back, calling him a 'man.' The names they called her weren't nearly as rewarding. He hardly heard them. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

She was as white as a ghost but otherwise unharmed. Perhaps, if she wasn't doing her hardest to not meet his gaze, he would have simply thought he had imagined the light projecting from her chest. Once again, he had underestimated her.

Magic, eh?

He smirked. Perhaps she was his ticket off this island after all.

-x-

This time, he didn't lock her in the cell. Much to his crewmates' dismay, he brought her to his cabin where they could have a private chat. Her lips turned blue, her skin frighteningly pale, though he somehow suspected it had more to do with that little display of witchcraft she had summed moments ago rather than the frigid waters that had succumbed them.

Killian studied her curiously. She stood there awkwardly in the middle of his room, clutching at her chest as if to keep her heart anchored inside. She seemed just as surprised as he was by her little magic trick—one that had surely saved both of their lives. He supposed he should thank her, but he couldn't think of anything to say, nor did he particular want to admit that he had been wrong about her. She seemed less confident than she had when he had locked her in the cell. He also recognized something else, something he recognized the moment he had laid eyes on her. He would know, as he felt it too.

 _Lost._

How fitting that she ended up in Neverland.

"Here," he shoved a shirt and a blanket into her arms.

"You could have let me drown," she said quietly.

He locked his eyes with hers. As soon as the words left her mouth, he saw her walls beginning to build back up around her and her confidence along with it.

"Aye, I could have… but you took something that belongs to me."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "And what would that be?"

He walked up to her and roughly grabbed her hips. He ripped his brother's sword from her pants, tearing them slightly in the process. "I believe this belongs to me." He held it up to her and pointed the tip slightly at her heart. The smirk quickly fell from his face when she reflected his bemusement, clearly not frightened of him at all.

"Why aren't you scared of me?" he asked her curiously, tucking his sword back into the sheath attached at his hip.

"Should I have a reason to be?" she questioned back.

"I fear my reputation does not precede me in your realm."

She shrugged, smiling. "Oh, don't worry. You have a reputation alright."

He frowned at her, sensing she was mocking him. "What the bloody hell does that mean?" Then on second thought, he said, "You know what. I don't care. Now why don't you change into those before you freeze to death."

Emma did not intend to change into one of his shirts, as hers would dry within the hour. Still, she held them up all the same, slightly intrigued at his generosity. The shirt, an off white from years of wear and tear, would not have fit him, even if he tried.

"Women's clothes?" Emma asked without really thinking. Then it dawned on her. Their conversation on top of that beanstalk felt like ages ago, yet she could remember it clearly. More specifically—she could remember the look in his eyes when she had questioned him about his tattoo. The look of someone with a broken heart…very much the same look he was giving her now.

"Milah," she whispered. As soon as she said it, she regretted it. She prayed that Hook had missed it. However, judging from his scowl though, he had indeed heard every word.

"What did you say?"

Emma hesitated, a reaction so unlike her. For someone who was so good at detecting a lie, why was she so bad at giving them? He mistook her silence for something more because before she knew it, he had her backed up against the wall and his hook at her throat.

"What did you say!" he repeated again. "So help me I will kill you."

"Milah!" Emma gasped.

If possible, that only spurred his anger. The desperation in his voice, surprised her. "How do you know about Milah. _How?_ Who are you!?"

"Hook! Stop it." Emma couldn't look him in the eyes. His eyes, black with rage, filled her with fear. This Hook did not know her. This Hook could care less. As he pressed the tip of his hook deeper into her skin, she realized the unmistakable truth: he would kill her if he saw fit.

"Tell me, damn it! How do you know about Milah! Did the crocodile send you? I do not tolerate trick—"

"I'm from the future!" she blurted out.

Just like that, Hook released his grip and took a step back in disbelief. Her hands shot up to her throat as she tried to catch her breath. Even to her ears, it sounded insane—though, she supposed a lot sounded strange to her nowadays. Perhaps time travel wasn't that far of a stretch for fairytale characters.

Her admittance seemed to startle him. The darkness quickly disappeared from his eyes as his anger faltered. Remarkably, she could see the blue seeping back into them and for a brief moment, she thought she caught a glimpse of the Killian she had come to know and even care for.

After a moment of him studying her, he asked, "The future?"

At this point, she figured that if she had disrupted their futures then the damage had already been done.

 _To hell with it._

"I don't know. There was this magic bean. She must have opened a portal with it ..." The more she spoke, the more he seemed to doubt her. Yet she couldn't stop. The words kept tumbling out of her. She told him as much as she could. The curse. The others in Storybrooke. Regina. Henry. Tamara and Greg. The magic bean. As she unraveled before him, fear seemed to sweep in. For the first time, she realized the chances of getting back home.

 _Hook was 300 something years old._

She was stuck here.

 _300 years._

How long would it take her to find her way back home? Emma let in a sharp breath, only to discover that she couldn't breathe. She let out a gasp, desperately trying to calm her racing heart. This small room was suffocating her. _He_ was suffocating her. She went for the door but Hook raced right up to her and slammed the door back shut. As the reality of her situation finally began to sink in, she rested her forehead against the wall and choked back a sob.

"Breathe, love. Just breathe."

She hated him. She hated him for threatening her one minute and then pretending to care the next. She hated this Hook and his arrogance. He had her pinned between himself and the door, so she roughly pushed him off her. Hook stumbled into the desk behind him, knocking items off in the process. She saw the darkness flash across his eyes again, though she recognized something else too. Something she could probably recognize as surprise. She supposed not many people challenged him.

While he looked like he wanted to kill her right then and there, "Magic beans aren't easy to come by," was all he said.

She blinked at him. After all that, he had not one single question? "You don't believe me."

He shrugged. "It's a lot to take in, love." Then after a moment. "I take it we know each other then."

She bit her lip, debating how much she should tell him. "You could say that."

That ridiculous smirk of his returned. He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Really?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Not like that."

Hook took a step towards her. He seemed guarded, not ready to trust her completely yet, so she fought the urge to take a step away from him. She would not give him that satisfaction. While she feared this Hook, she had to remind herself that he was, in fact, the same Hook she had left behind in Storybrooke.

"Alright, love. Prove it."

"What?" Then she shot him her best glare. "Why don't you try something new for a change? It's called trust." There was something incredibly rewarding at throwing his own words back at him—not that he would know. At least, not for a couple 300 hundred years.

He ignored her and just gave her an exasperated stare. "Prove that you know me."

"Hook… we aren't exactly friends."

He frowned at that. "Enemies then?"

"I wouldn't say that either." Honestly, she didn't even know what she would consider Hook. She wouldn't peg him as a villain but he certainly was not a hero either. How did she explain to him all they had gone through together? The beanstalk. Cora. Storybrooke. They weren't friends, no, but he wasn't her enemy either. And despite all this, how did she explain that they still understood one another?

"You're…you're just selfish and only care about yourself," she settled with eventually.

Surprisingly, he did not scowl her for her bluntness. Instead, he just smirked at her. "Pirate, love."

"I just need to get back home," she admitted with a heavy sigh. "I think you're the only one who can help me."

"Home. Where might that be, love?"

"I'm from a world without magic."

His eyes narrowed. "If there's no magic in your world, then how do you explain that lovely magic trick you displayed back there?" he asked, pointing towards the sea and then back at her heart.

Emma hesitated. How did she scare them off? She honestly wasn't even sure she understood the full meaning of her powers quite yet. "It's complicated…there's magic now. Rumple—"

" _What?!"_

 _Goddamnit._ Why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut?

"You're telling me you know where the crocodile is?"

Emma didn't even have to say anything. He knew her answer the moment she mentioned Gold. The smile that tugged at the corner of his lips was unlike anything she had seen before. The darkness swept over him, pushing away any signs of _her_ Killian away.

"Why Miss Swan, how about that parley?"

Emma blinked at him, clearly taken aback. It could not be that simple. Though, she supposed she should have known. In fact, everything clicked the moment she mentioned Rumpelstiltskin and she wondered why she hadn't brought him up the moment she had ran into him. It surely would have saved a lot of time and effort on her part if she had. The one thing Hook cared about more than anything in the world was his vengeance.

Emma hesitated, thinking it through. "So you're saying…you'll help me get back to my family."

"If you take me with you," he added sternly, the humor no longer there.

She was not, in a million years, going to let this happen but he didn't need to know this. How exactly she would prevent him from coming with her, she did not know. She supposed she would have to figure that out when the time came to it. _If_ the time came to it.

With very little thought, she held out her hand. "Deal."

Hook gripped her hand firmly in his. Then without warning, he sharply pulled her towards him. She hissed as he dug his fingers into her wrist. "I should warn you, lass," he whispered harshly. "I don't take too kindly to those who betray me."

Emma gritted her teeth and forced out the lie. "A deal's a deal, Hook. Savvy?"

"Aye," he said, though his eyes still held the blackness and she feared what he would do if she went back on her promise. Then he blinked and just like that, those kind blue eyes of his returned.

She didn't like this side of him, this darkness that consumed him. She could see now, clearer than ever, how much Milah's death had affected him. Still, _her_ Hook seemed softer and she wondered what had changed between now and then. Perhaps time really did heal a broken heart.

As if he had not just threatened her life, he stepped away from her with a content sigh. "Now. Shall we be going?"

"To Pan?" she asked, hope filling her.

"Pan!? _Bloody hell._ Have you not listened to a damn word I've said? Of course we are not seeking out that wretched child," he huffed at her. "Stop smirking. I don't know what stories you've heard in your realm but I can assure you the real deal isn't nearly as pleasant. Now? Shall we be on our way? Of course, I'll wait if you'd like to change first."

He smirked at her and she could practically see all the sinful thoughts running through his head. "I'm good," she handed the shirt back to him. "Thanks though."

"Hopefully, you won't catch a cold, love."

"Mine will dry." After all, her hair already had in the short time they'd been in the cabin.

"As you wish, love." Then suddenly _he_ began to undress. Her cheeks flushed red when she realized that he planned to change with or without her there. Clearly, Hook had no modesty.

"Really!?" She whirled around to face the door. She did _not_ need to see that.

Hook chuckled. "No worries, love. I don't think I could resist me either."

Facing the door, she crossed both her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. She chose to ignore that. Instead, she asked, "And where might that be?" Really, she was curious about this master plan of his. Only moments ago, he seemly wanted to kill her. Baelfire himself had told her only Pan could get her off the island, so it baffled her why everybody was so scared of a _child._

But then again, she also never imagined that she'd be having a conversation with Hook from the past. She let out a long, heavy sigh. Would her life ever be normal?

No. The answer was no.

"I may know of someone who could help."

Hating herself, she jumped at the sound of his voice. She had not expected him to be so close and she feared what she would find when she turned around to face him. She took her chances and was pleased to find him dressed in almost the same outfit he had just changed out of, only these clothes were dry.

"You _may_ know of someone? I think I need a little more assurance than that."

"We aren't exactly on the best terms right now. Hopefully, she'll take more of a liking to you."

 _She?_

"And if she doesn't?"

Hook shrugged, caring less. "Guess we will find out. Come along now, Emma. There's work to be done. I've waited much too long for my revenge and I'd rather not wait a moment longer."

With that said, he was up and out the door, leaving her completely alone in his cabin. Emma let out a frustrated sigh. Really, she had no choice but to follow him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Mind you, this is a much safer way to travel," Hook told her.

Emma rolled her eyes at him. If there was one thing that had not changed between past Hook and future Hook, it was his sense of humor and annoying charm. He sat across from her in the small rowboat, hand and hook on the paddles. As he rowed them to shore, he did not take his eyes off her.

It unnerved her.

"First time in Neverland? Well, you never forget your first." Hook added when she didn't answer him.

She hated the way he got under her skin. She hated the way he made her heart skip a beat, making her forget about Neal. She hated the fact that she actually enjoyed it when he called her 'love' and 'lass'. But above all else, she hated that she was sitting across from past Hook and not future Hook. At least with future Hook, she didn't have to worry about much anything other than herself. With past Hook, she had to worry about so much.

It gave her a headache.

"It's a lovely night, wouldn't you agree, love?"

Time travel, she thought, was such a strange concept. Even though she was here physically, she still found the whole thing a little surreal. A part of her still believed (and hoped) that this was all some nightmare—that she would wake up back in Storybrooke safe and sound in her bed. Perhaps, if she closed her eyes and willed hard enough, magic itself would send her back.

"You know," Hook tried for the fourth time. "Most men take your silence as off putting, but I love a challenge."

Now that caught her attention and her eyes found his unerringly fast. "I'm thinking," she said stubbornly.

Hook shook his head. "No. You're afraid. You're afraid to talk, to reveal yourself."

Her mind was swimming with déjà vu. She could not have this conversation with him again. Once on the beanstalk was plenty. Unfortunately for her, this Hook had no memories of such conversation and he went on anyway, restating exactly what she already knew.

"You're something of an open book."

 _She would not talk. She would not talk. She would not talk._

"You're motivated. You want to get back to a child."

Emma bit her tongue, desperately trying to block him out. She couldn't take much more of it. Even though she knew what he would say next, it still hurt just as much when he had told her the first time. She didn't need to hear it again.

"You don't want to abandon him the way you were abandoned."

That did it. "I get it," she snapped, cutting off his next words. "I was an orphan. Happy?"

Hook blinked. Clearly, he had not expected such hostility or bluntness from her. "I don't mean to upset you, Emma."

Emma let out a heavy and frustrated sigh. She shouldn't have cared that she had upset him, but she did and she slightly hated herself for it. She somehow felt that she owed him an explanation, even though she knew she shouldn't.

"No. It's just…we've had this conversation before."

She supposed she shouldn't have told him that but a weight seemed to lift off her shoulders. Perhaps she should stop worrying about messing up the future and simply focus on getting back home. As of now, the only person she could possibly affect was Hook and maybe Neal, though Neal was a child here. He would forget her with time. Perhaps if she did allow Hook to come with her, she could get Regina or hell, even Gold, to make him a potion to forget and send him back.

Easier said than done, yes, she knew.

Hook studied her for a very long time. He honestly didn't know what to make of the situation. For reasons he couldn't even begin to fathom, he trusted her. He sensed their relationship went a little deeper than what she was getting at. He wouldn't push her, knowing that she would run the opposite direction if he did.

 _Killian_. She had said it, safe inside her mouth. _Killian_. Like she cared.

He wondered if he said her name the same way in her land.

"You've not told me your whole name." He sensed her hesitation. "I wouldn't worry about messing up the future, love. I'm afraid you can't mess it up anymore than you already have."

She gave him that pointed look of hers. To his surprise, she gave him an answer. "It's Swan."

She certainly intrigued him. "Emma Swan. I like it. It suits you."

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask your opinion," she shot back. She did not mention that she was the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. After all, some things were better left unsaid and the last thing she needed was him making princess jokes.

"Tell me, Swan," he began, purposely dragging out her name, "Do we have many conversations in this land of yours?"

"Well, I guess you'll just have to wait and find out," she said. She couldn't help the smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Hook pouted. "What's the fun in that?"

Emma ignored him. She tilted her head back, choosing instead to marvel at the view above her. The Moons, both large and small, shone brightly in the sky, and millions upon millions of stars surrounded them. She had never seen a sight quite like it and she doubted she ever would again. Neverland certainly didn't disappoint and it was even more beautiful than she ever could have imagined.

When she was a child, Peter Pan had been by far her favorite fairytale. Mostly, because she wished that the lost boy would fly through her window and take her away from all the horrors of the world. Only when she grew older did she come to learn that magic did not exist. Peter Pan did not exist. Neverland most certainly did not exist and yet, there she was. Oh how very wrong she had been. About everything really. Magic. Her parents. Neal. Even the fairytales she had read as a child had been a lie. Out of all the fairytales, this reality of Neverland seemed to disappoint her the most.

"Beautiful. Isn't it?" Hook acknowledged, the first positive thing he had said about Neverland since she got there.

Because she couldn't think of anything else to say, she admitted, "Yeah. It is."

When they got close enough to the shore, Hook jumped out of the boat and pulled it onto the sandy beach. Then ever so gracefully, he held out his hand. Emma eyed it skeptically. "So now you decide to be a gentleman?"

She pushed his hand aside and jumped out herself. She did not need his help. He caught her arm with his hook all the same and spun her around to face him. "Emma," he whispered harshly. "I don't know what stories you've heard…but I can assure you they are all lies. Neverland is not a fairytale. It's a nightmare."

He was so close to her now, she could feel the warmth radiating off his body. She glanced at her wrist, which he had managed to catch with his hook. Sensing her opportunity, she asked, "Why is everyone so scared of a child? Pan is not supposed to be the bad guy."

Hook looked incredibly puzzled by her words. "And what gave you that idea?"

"Every story I have ever heard as a child."

"Well they got it wrong. Pan is the most treacherous villain I have ever faced. Tell me something, love. These stories, what was I like?"

Emma didn't even try to hide the smirk. "If waxed mustaches and perms are your thing."

"I take it by your tone perms are bad?"

She didn't give him an answer, nor did she need to. Her smirk was enough to answer his question and then she was off. Cursing under his breath, Hook quickly caught up and pushed his way in front of her. "Stay behind me. The last thing I need is you getting yourself killed. And don't touch anything."

"I'm not some damsel in distress," Emma shot back. Despite her protests, she let him take the lead, mostly because she had no clue where he was taking her.

"Aye. We've already established that. You're a tough lass. You'd make a hell of a pirate."

They walked together in silence to what felt like an eternity. At least, to Emma it felt that way. She let out an involuntary yawn. The toll of the day had finally caught up to her. Aside from getting back home, she wanted nothing more than to lay her head on a pillow and sleep. She could not even guess how long it had been since she had fallen through the portal. Surely, not terribly long, as the moons were still high in the sky, indicating that dawn would not come for some time.

Hook stopped abruptly and completely lost in thought, she barreled straight into him. He steadied her with his hand and she blinked back the slumbers of sleep.

Hook took one look at her and said, "Why don't we rest?"

That was enough to snap her back to reality. Well...this reality anyway. Emma immediately straightened back up. "What? No. Surely, it can't be much farther."

When Hook hesitated, she lost just the tiniest bit of hope. She honestly didn't know how much longer she could go on but she would. For Henry. And Emma would not give up, even if it meant using every ounce of strength and energy she had left. She also wasn't sure she'd be able to sleep even if she tried. It was irrational, she knew, but to her, sleeping meant defeat, admitting that she may not ever get back home. Plus, she didn't really want to deal with the nightmares. At least, not with Hook so close by. She knew the moment she closed her eyes they would come.

"We keep going," Emma stated firmly. As far as she was concerned, the quicker she got home, the better…even if she did feel like she could collapse from exhaustion at any moment. Then second thought, she added, "At least while it's still dark."

Hook chuckled. "Lass, if we waited for daylight we'd be walking forever." At her frown, he added, "Daylight do not exist in Neverland, love. Only darkness."

"What?"

"Neverland is based off believers and right now that's Pan. Pan has a heart of black and only believes in hell." Hook gestured around him. "I can assure you love, that as long as he's here, only night will exist in Neverland."

Finally, it clicked. She pushed all her preconceived notions of Neverland aside and traded them in for Hook's word. She was quickly beginning to understand that real fairytales were not for the faint-hearted. In real fairytales, before Disney came in, children were eaten; woman cut off their limbs; people were tortured. In real fairytales, pain and suffering existed and sometimes the villains prevailed.

But then Mary Margaret's voice was in her ear. _Have hope, Emma. Light trumps darkness every time._ Suddenly, she found herself having just the slightest bit of faith.

 _I will find you. I will always find you._ Her father's voice came next.

"I can't believe that," she told him stubbornly.

Hook didn't even try to hide his annoyance. He turned his back to her, continuing on their way. "Of course… there are rumors," he said over his shoulder. He swung his sword to cut a path in front of them. "Or a prophecy of sorts. Call it what you will. The Indian Chief has a whole lot of them, though that nut job seems to insist on one in particular."

"Of course there's a prophecy," Emma muttered. "What's new?"

"My thoughts exactly."

"Do you recall said prophecy?" Emma asked, mildly intrigued.

"Something about a lost princess, true love and hero vs villain or a final battle, which all somehow equates to making the sun rise again." He paused then to look at her. "Really, aren't all prophecies the same when you break them down?"

"Yes, I suppose they are." Because she couldn't help herself, she asked, "Lost princess you say?"

Hook paused briefly to glance over his shoulder. "Yes and we've already established that you are not that."

If he only knew.

Before she could push for more answers, she caught the tiny shift in his eyes. Most people wouldn't have thought anything of it but Emma had spent years as a bounty hunter and she knew that look anywhere. She whirled around, prepared to fight as her survival instincts kicked into overdrive. She was fast but her attacker was faster. Emma's head followed her hair as someone roughly grabbed her head and snapped it back. Emma only froze when she felt the cool steal against her neck.

She shot Hook a nervous glance but he seemed rather amused at the whole situation. For a moment, she wondered if this had all been a set up. Then she heard her attacker's voice.

"I thought I told you to never bring anybody here, Hook."

Emma had not expected to hear a woman's voice. From her position, the only thing Emma could gather from her attacker was that she was most certainly short. If it wasn't for the knife, Emma would have taken her down in a heartbeat.

"Nice to see you too, Tink," Hook said much too causally for Emma's liking. She also didn't appreciate the wink he shot her either.

You know, if Emma didn't have a blade pressed to her throat, she would have laughed. Tinkerbell. Of course. Who else would she have expected to meet in Neverland.

"Who is she?" Tinkerbell asked, ignoring him completely.

"Ah. _Well_ , I was hoping you could tell me that," Hook said. Tinkerbell gave Hook an incredulous look. "I take it you don't recognize her then," he added as an afterthought.

"Why? Should I?"

Hook shrugged. Mockingly, he said, "Fairies. Don't they know everything?"

"Don't pirates?" Tink snapped back and then, "What do you want?"

"I need you to take us to the others."

Clearly, the question offended Tink because she gave Emma's hair another sharp tug. To prove her point, Tink pressed the blade a little deeper into Emma's neck.

"Hey!" Emma quickly jumped in. "Easy there. I'm not here to hurt you." Hook, clearly, did not seem to care about her current predicament.

Tinkerbell ignored her. "You know I don't have any magic Hook. You know they won't let me in."

"Aye," Hook smirked. Then nodding at Emma, he said, "but she does. So why don't you let her go now."

Tinkerbell shot Emma a skeptical look and then shifted her gaze back to Hook. She must have decided he had told her the truth. Not so gently, Tinkerbell roughly pushed Emma away from her. Emma, not expecting the sudden jolt, stumbled forward and practically fell into Hook's arms.

"It's about bloody time," Hook said, catching her around the waist.

Just like in the Enchanted Forest, she struggled out of his grip. When she got back home, she needed to tell him to come up with some new pickup lines.

Emma took a step back and shot him a glare before directing her gaze to Tinkerbell. The beloved fair wasn't entirely what she expected. The blond hair and petite frame, yes. Guarded and worn down, no. To her, Tinkerbell looked more like a thief on the run than anything else. She looked like, Emma realized, someone without a home—a feeling Emma knew all too well.

"Alright, let's see this magic of yours."

Emma, feeling incredibly awkward and incapable, shifted back and forth on her feet. "I don't exactly know how," Emma admitted.

Tinkerbell gave Hook a pointed look. "Really?"

"I saw it with my own eyes. She has magic." Hook walked right up to Tinkerbell. He towered over her but she did not back down. "Magic or not, I believe you still owe me a favor darling."

"I owe you nothing."

"I beg to differ."

Emma huffed. "Would anyone like to tell me where we are going?"

They ignored her.

"Fine," Tinkerbell gave in. "I'll take you there, but I can tell you right now it's a waste of time. They aren't going to help you."

"Aye. Well, why don't we let them be the judge of that?" Hook held out his hand. "Ladies first."

Tink huffed and then she was off, Hook along with her. Emma let out a frustrated sigh before following after them.

"Where are we going," Emma asked again.

Hook smirked at her. "Patience, love."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Hook," Emma warned and that was all it took.

"I'm taking you to the fairies," Hook admitted. "They aren't known to help others, especially pirates, but I think they'll take a liking to you."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I'm sure," was all he said.

Hook was lying, she realized. He did not expect these fairies to help them at all, even if she did have magic. This was just a last resort, a needle in a haystack. She fought the urge to run off and look for this treacherous child herself. At this point, she honestly didn't even care how she got back home, as long as she did.

"And Tinkerbell? Doesn't she have magic?" Emma asked.

"It's complicated."

"I can hear you," Tink snapped at them, which quickly ended that conversation.

They walked the rest of the way in silence again with Emma falling slightly behind. God, she hated this so much. A part of her still believed this wasn't happening. And not just this…but _everything_. She could not and would not accept that she was the Savior of some fairytale curse. It was _insane._ Mental.

Not to mention, Neal.

 _Neal._

Her heart pinched at the thought of him. Until Henry found her, Neal had been the only thing real in her life. Even he had been a lie. She loved him, yes, and she would always love him, but they could not be a family again. At least, not in the way he wanted them to be. There was too much pain, too much unspoken history and a love story built on white lies.

"We're here," Tinkerbell said, breaking her from her thoughts.

They stood in front of a large, ancient tree. It looked old and worn. Its branches hung around them in a way that made it look like the tree itself was weeping. Despite the solemn appeal, Emma felt a strange sense of calm wash over her. She realized for the first time since she fell into Neverland that she felt safe.

"So," Emma drew out. "Now what?"

"Only a fairy can let us in."

Emma eye Tinkerbell skeptically. "Aren't you supposed to be a fairy?"

"Aren't you supposed to have magic?" Tinkerbell shot back with more fire than Emma had expected.

"Easy there Tink," Hook interfered. "She's been told lies all her life." Hook glanced around him. "Are you sure this is the right place?" Hook asked, not even trying to hide his skepticism

Tink shot him a look that could kill. "Yes this is the right place."

"Perhaps they moved—"

"This is the right place!"

Hook held up his hands in mock surrender.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Well now what?"

"I said I would take you here, I didn't say anything about them letting you in."

"But she has bloody magic," Hook shouted back. "More than you can say."

That did it.

Tinkerbell went off at him and Hook shouted right back. Emma slowly stepped away from the two, feeling rather like a child stuck in the middle of a parents' fight. Neither of them seemed to notice her slip away or care for that matter. She found herself retreating towards a river nearby. It drowned out their bickering and Emma sighed with relief when she sank to her knees.

Her reflection in the water stared blankly back at her. She hardly recognized herself, with the hollowed out cheeks and sunken in eyes. She looked like a train wreck, she realized nearly as much as she felt like one. The weight of day (or days, she wasn't exactly sure) certainly took its toll on her. She closed her eyes, desperate to keep the panic at bay and sanity in check.

She would get back, she vowed.

"I promise Henry. I'm coming back for you."

She used her hands to scoop water into her mouth. Never had water tasted so good before. As she drank from the river, a very strange sensation overcame her. She turned around, surprised to find a large yellow flower directly behind her. A beautiful flower really. She couldn't even begin to describe the exquisiteness this flower held. In fact, it was so beautiful that whatever it was she had been worrying about before seemed rather pointless now. She thought how much Mary Margaret would love to have this in her kitchen. Suddenly, she wanted—no needed—to take this flower back to her mother. So she reached out…if she could just grab it…everything would be okay. She was sure—

 _"What are you doing!?""_

Emma snapped out of whatever spell she was under and fell backwards. Hook was by her side in an instant, dragging her away from the beautiful flower.

Panic shot through her like a knife, frightened solely by the fact that Hook was so frightened.

"What are you doing?" Emma echo back. "Let go of me!" She struggled out of his grip but he just held on tighter. Then he took her by the shoulders and shook some sense into her.

"Are you bloody crazy!? Didn't I tell you not to touch anything?" Hook grabbed her not so gently by the back of the head and forced her to stand still as he examined her. What he was looking for, she had no clue.

"What the hell, Hook! I'm fine. Now let go," Emma shouted, shrugging him off her.

"It's a nightingale. You got lucky," Tinkerbell said.

Emma shifted towards Tink and gaped in horror. The flower that had looked so breathtakingly beautiful to her only moments ago was anything but that. Thorns made to kill covered it completely. It showed no signs of yellow, only black with a blood red center. She didn't even want to know what would have happened if she would have touched it.

"But…"Emma stuttered.

"Welcome to Neverland, love," Hook said, not taking his eyes off her.

His concern surprised her. Perhaps this Hook did care more than his vengeance for Gold. Very gently, he used his good hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. The exchange only lasted seconds but it was enough to make her blush.

Tinkerbell coughed loudly, clearly doing her best to interrupt the moment.

"Yes?" Hook asked, annoyed.

Tinkerbell gestured in front of her and they followed her gaze. Emma stared in awe. Hundreds upon hundreds of tiny lights, lights of all colors, surrounded the old, weeping tree. She felt a rush of joy at the sight, which was quickly replaced by panic, thinking this could be another trick, just like the flower. But Hook's smile calmed her nerves.

One light brighter than all the rest, drifted closer to them. Emma quickly realized that these weren't lights at all. These were fairies. Finally, the one light grew so bright, Emma had to shield her eyes with her hand. Then it slowly began to dim, revealing a small fairy clocked in all white and hair a deep gold. Only her eyes, which were keen and wells of deep memory, betrayed her age.

"I thought you might come," the White Fairy said.

Emma stared, completely in awe. She had never seen a fairy before and it was even better than she could have possibly imagined.

"Emma is it?" The fairy said, hovering just in front of her. "My name is Galadriel, though most know me as the White Fairy." Then her gaze shifted to Hook and Tinkerbell. Emma did not miss the sudden shift of distrust in the White Fairy's eyes. Emma wondered what Tinkerbell could have done...Hook on the other hand, left very little to the imagination.

"You are dismissed, Green. You as well, Hook."

Tinkerbell looked as if she wanted to say something more but eventually decided against it. Tinkerbell sharply turned her back on them before trekking off into the forest. Hook, while annoyed, did not argue.

"I'll be over here, love. Don't forget our deal."

A warning.

"Now, Emma, or should I say Princess Emma?" The White Fairy said once they were alone. Emma froze. The one part of the story she had left out. The White Fairy, sensing her panic, added, "Do not worry. Your secret is safe with me."

"Can you send me home?" Emma asked, cutting straight to the point.

"Home. That's a very long way from here. A different realm. Different time even." The White Fairy paused briefly. "I would suggest centuries even?" The While Fairy tilted her head to the side and studied her for a moment longer. "You possess magic, though you have yet to learn your true strength."

Emma hesitated. She did not like the idea of this fairy knowing so much about her when she knew so little.

"Can you send me back," Emma asked again.

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

Emma's heart sunk. If the greatest fairy in all the realms could not help her then how would she ever get back to Henry?

"Why?" Emma asked, barely finding her voice.

"Time portals are very rare. They can only work unless they were meant to."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "What the hell is that supposed to mean."

"Do you believe in fate Ms Swan?"

Emma hesitated. After everything she had been through, did she believe in fate? Storybrooke, Henry, her parents, the curse…and the list went on and on. Did she really just chalk that all up to circumstance? Most probably would have considered finding and falling in love with Neal enough proof that fate existed but not her. Not admitting something and not believing in something were two very different things.

"I don't know," she said eventually. "Please. I just want to get back to my family."

"There is another issue," the White Fairy began. "One that even I find complicating."

"Hook," Emma stated.

"Yes. Interesting. Wouldn't you agree?"

Emma hesitated. "He has to forget… Neal as well. They can't remember any of this. It could mess everything up. Hook wants to come back with me. He can't."

The White Fairy nodded. "I would agree. Come back in three days' time. I'll come up with something to make them forget."

Three days. She had to stay here for at least three more days? "And then you'll help me get home?"

The White Fairy regarded her a moment before answering. "I'm afraid I cannot make any promises but I'll do my best."

As she stared at the White Fairy, she saw the horrible truth. Life, as it turned out, went on. There was no cosmic rule that granted you immunity from the details just because you have come face-to-face with a catastrophe. Henry would grow up, her parents would eventually have another child, and Storybrooke would go on with or without her there.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! I appreciate them**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

For the first time in an incredibly long time, Killian did not know what to say. Whatever the White Fairy had told Emma had not settled well with her. There was no need to measure her sorrow, as it was plainly evident, even from a distance. He wanted to comfort her, to say _something_ and yet no words came to him. The silence was unbearable, though she hardly seemed to mind. She may have been there physically, but mentally, he could tell, she was far, far away.

It was absurd to believe that she was actually from the future. However, he had seen his fair share of unbelievable things. For reasons he couldn't even begin to understand, he trusted her—a rarity in itself, for he did not consider himself an easily trusting man. Perhaps her lack of trust in return comforted him in some strange way. They understood each other…and apparently knew each other too.

 _They've had conversations together._

She knew about Milah, which could only mean his future-self trusted her as well. This only led to more questions, which racked his brain. What else had they shared? Why were they neither friend or foe? The questions were endless. He didn't think he could forget the way she had said his name when he had first found her.

 _Killian._

Like she knew him.

 _Killian._

Like she cared.

It bothered him that she knew so much about him when he knew so little about her. Gods, she was beautiful. It had thrown him off guard when she had kissed him in the cell. He could still taste her. For a moment back there, he had forgotten where they were and who he thought she was working for. _The kiss was that good._ Thinking about it now, all he felt was desire. He wanted to hold her and explore every inch of her body. He wanted to run his hand through those golden locks and push her up against the tree and—

A branch snapped beneath his foot, jolting him from his thoughts and hers too apparently. She practically jumped a mile high. She didn't strike him for one to startle so easily and his concern only grew. It seemed to him that he was seeing her clearly for the first time and he wondered how he ever thought she was working for Pan or the crocodile for that matter.

"Is everything alright love?" he asked her

"Yes," she mumbled. "Let's just get back to the ship."

Terrible liar.

He could see the dark circles under her eyes and the way she blinked, as if to fight off the slumbers of sleep. She was failing miserably. He could see the pieces of her she struggled to hold together and he wondered how much longer she could hold that façade intact. She was a tough lass for sure. There was no denying that. He eventually decided she'd be fine. Then he remembered her question about days and nights.

"Emma, love?" Hook questioned, turning to her suddenly. "When's the last time you slept?"

Emma hesitated. She could not remember the last time she had slept more than a couple of hours. Even back in Storybrooke, she hadn't gotten much sleep. Perhaps if her head didn't feel like it was splitting in two, she could ease her state of mind—which she was seriously questioning at the moment.

Hook, sensing her answer, held out his canteen. "Here."

"I'm not in the mood for rum."

"Believe it or not, I do fancy other beverages from time to time…mostly out of necessity but that's beside the point." He shoved the canteen into her hands. "It's water, love. Now drink up."

She took it from him without a word. He watched her lean heavily against the tree as she drank from it. He thought about telling her she could sit down and they could rest for a little bit, but he knew what her answer would be. Emma pinched the bridged of her nose and let out a heavy sigh. He really wished she'd stop worrying about messing up the future, for there was no doubt in his mind that her simply being here screwed it up in more ways than he could count.

"Where's Tink?" she asked him.

He blinked, realizing she had caught him staring. "Tink?" Oh. Right. The fairy. Hook shrugged. "She'll be fine." Emma just gave him an incredulous look. Then because he was a gentleman, he walked straight on over to her to make sure she was okay. She almost took a step away from him but forced herself to stay put. He noticed all the same. So he did frighten her after all—just not in the way he was use to scaring people.

"I know you're hurting, Swan, but there are better ways to stop that pain."

Her eyes flickered to his. "Let me guess. Rum?"

 _Bloody hell. Why was she so fixated on him and rum?_ He held up his _other_ canteen mocking her anyway. "Never hurts."

She actually gave him a smile—well, a forced one at that, but still a smile nonetheless. "I'll be fine…I just want to get back to the ship."

He liked how she simply assumed that she was free to come back with him. If she weren't so distraught at the moment, he would have had a field day with that. He could think of a couple innuendos he'd love to share with her, but given her current state, he kept his mouth shut.

"Emma, what did the White Fairy tell you?" Killian asked her, finally cutting to the chase. Emma glanced at the ground, giving him all the answer he needed. "They won't help us. Will they?"

"Not exactly," she admitted. Then after a moment, she elaborated, "She said to return in three days."

"Three days!?" he practically shouted. "What the bloody hell for?!"

Emma hesitated yet again and he caught the lie before she even opened her mouth. "She said she needs time," Emma told him with a heavy sigh. "I guess time portals are very rare."

Like he said. Terrible liar.

Curious, really, that she wouldn't meet his gaze. Really. Worst liar he had ever met. She wasn't telling him the whole truth, but he wouldn't push her either. Not now anyway. He wasn't stupid. Emma was clever and he very much doubted she would let him tag along to this "future" of her.

But it was fine.

She could go back on their promise if she wanted to. _HA._ He'd like to see her try. Oh, he would accompany her back to this "Story Brooke" of hers alright, whether she liked it or not. Then he could kill the crocodile and finally get his revenge! Honestly, he waited far too long and damn him, he refused to let Emma Swan—or anybody for that matter—stand in his way. Even if her gorgeous blond hair and green eyes made him pause.

A drop of rain fell on his head, interrupting his thoughts. Emma felt it too and he watched as she glanced up, eyes going wide. He could distinctly remember all of his own surprises the first week he spent in Neverland. How quickly a clear sky could turn into a dark clouds was definitely one of them.

"It's going to storm," he said voicing her thoughts out loud. "Why don't we get back to the ship?"

She nodded

The wind picked up and the trees whispered around them. A chill raced up his spine, quickly sending him into panic mode. He learned at a very young age that absolute quiet did not exist. There was always something there, struggling to make its presence known. That's when he heard it.

 _Crying._

Their voices came gradually but he could hear them all the same. They needed to get back to the ship. Now.

"Come on. We must be on our way."

Without further thought, he took her hand in his and gently pulled her along. They only got a couple feet before her hand slipped from his grasp. It did not surprise him to find her eyes wide with fear. So she could hear them too. The crying. She had told him she was an orphan but now he could see it, plain as day. She bore the same look in her eyes The Lost Boys did and it pained him to know that she had a childhood not worth remembering. And if it was anything like his had been, then he really did understand her.

"Emma…" Hook tried but failed short. He didn't know what to say and nothing he could say would make her forget. "We must get back to the ship."

 _Crying._

It grew louder around them. It could only mean one thing. Pan was close by.

" _Emma,"_ he pleaded, this time more urgent. He would get them both back to the ship, even if he had to throw her over his shoulder and carry her there himself. She nodded, coming back to him and he sighed with relief.

Then a branch snapped from behind them and he lost her. He whirled around, using his body to block hers from whatever harm laid behind them, and yet nobody was there.

"Henry," Emma breathed out.

He turned back to Emma. He could see the fear and a whole ton of other emotions he couldn't quite place spreading across her face like wildfire. He turned back, just to make sure he hadn't missed something and he hadn't. Nobody was there. This was another trick. Pan was already playing games with them, playing with _her._

"Emma…wait. He's not real… it's an illusion."

But it was too late. Before he could grab her, she was already off.

-x-

You can't exist in this world without leaving a piece of yourself behind. Emma realized this as she raced after Henry through the dense forest. She was soaked to the thigh with muck and slush, although it didn't seem to bother Henry in the slightest. If she would have stopped to think about it, she would have come to realize that she was not chasing Henry at all. In fact, she would have come to realize that she wasn't even chasing a _person_ through this nightmarish forest. She was chasing a memory—an illusion, something Neverland or perhaps Pan had conjured.

Another trick.

But she didn't stop to think. She was so far past the point of thinking logically that she just trudged on, ignoring the fact that there was no way a child would have possibly made it through this mess. However, in her line of work, she couldn't afford not to trust her instincts. Despite the fact that following an illusion was probably one of the most irrational—not to mention the craziest—thing she had ever done, she still pushed forward.

"Henry!" Emma shouted but it was useless.

That's when Emma heard Hook shout her name, somewhere far behind her. She couldn't stop now. There was no time. Emma sprinted after Henry, wincing as a branch snapped back against her face and opened a cut over her good eye. Just when she thought she couldn't go any further, she tore through a snarl of vines and burst onto a narrow path that opened up into a clearing.

"Henry!" she cried above the wind but Henry was nowhere in sight.

At that moment, Emma had never felt more despair in her life. She had followed a hallucination. Henry was not trapped in Neverland. She was. Henry was back in Storybrooke with her parents, Neal and present Hook.

 _She was seeing things. She was going crazy._

It's the little things you take for granted. Sleep was most certainly one of them. She whirled around at another noise.

 _She wasn't crazy._

The noises came again, this time louder.

 _Crying._

Emma snapped her eyes shut and willed the voices to go away. _She was not crazy. She was not crazy_. But no matter how hard she willed, she could still hear the crying. The cries of children, she realized and her heart ached for them. She couldn't pinpoint them. They surrounded her. They suffocated her.

 _She was not crazy._

The sounds grew louder, so much so that she couldn't take it anymore. The pain in her head was so intense she was almost certain that it would explode.

"You hear that too?"

Emma whirled around and reached for her gun, only to realize that she had left that behind in Storybrooke as well. Somehow it did not surprise her to find a child leaning against the tree and she wondered how long he had been watching her. The boy was only a few years older than Henry. His eyes betrayed his false sense of innocence and she gave him a good look up and down. Her superpower blared inside her head. Everything about this boy screamed lies to her.

"You're Emma, right? You know, not everybody can hear it. The crying."

"Who are you?"

The boy faked sincerity. "Oh? Did I forget to introduce myself?" She prepared herself, knowing exactly would he would say next. "I'm Peter. Peter Pan." He glanced down at the ground and then back up at her, a smirk on his child-like face. "You're trying to get home, correct? I think I could help you."

"Why would you do that?"

Pan shrugged, but she sensed an alternative motive. "Why not?"

"Then why does everybody keep telling me not to trust you?"

Pan threw back a laugh. "Oh? So you'd rather trust a one-handed pirate with a drinking problem instead?"

He had a point.

"I hear you're trying to get back to your son. Henry is it?" Pan asked.

Something inside her snapped. She used all the strength she had left to shove him up against the tree, digging her arm into his neck. So this was his alternative motive. He would help her but at a price she couldn't afford. "What do you want with him?"

"You got fire. I like fire."

She thought she was beginning to see why Hook hated this child so much. "What do you want with him!?"

"He's a very special boy. Someone I've been looking for, for a very long time."

"I know," Emma snapped. "That doesn't answer my question. What do you want with him?"

Pan shrugged in response. "Does it really matter. I mean after all…you're stuck here and he's stuck…well wherever you're from."

Emma narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you going to tell me how I can never see Henry again?"

"No. I'm going to help you find him. I'll give you a map. A map that will lead you straight to your son."

"If this is some kind of trap," she warned, yet still choosing to take it from him anyway.

"I may not be the most well behaved boy on the island but I always keep my promises. The path to getting back home is on this parchment."

She starred at the map in her hands in disbelief. God, this child was annoying. No wonder Hook hated him so much. Pan was taunting her. Whether this child actually knew how she could get home or not, this was a game to him. This Peter Pan was nothing like the fairytales she grew up with.

"Why are you giving it to me?"

"See it's not about getting back home. It's _how. A_ nd Emma you're the only one who can. Don't let any _fairy_ or _pirate_ tell you otherwise."

"It's blank."

"You will only be able to read that map when you stop denying who you really are."

"Emma!" Hook chose that moment to burst through the clearing and she quickly shoved the parchment into her jeans so he wouldn't see it. She had an inkling that Hook wouldn't take too well to this encounter and she feared he'd just burn the map if she told him she had it. While she had little hope that this map was her ticket off the island, she wasn't taking any chances.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Killian shouted, his voice filled with worry.

Emma glanced behind her but Pan had already disappeared. He was beyond mad, yet he was eyeing her with so much concern that she had to look away from him.

 _She was not crazy. She was not crazy._

This time he took her by the wrist and she fell back to reality in a rush of pain and agony. Everything hurt, her heart most of all and his touch didn't help. It burned and she found herself pulling away from him. Then he was staring at her with his big round, concerned eyes of his. He pitied her and she hated him for it.

"Emma," he breathed out.

 _Like he cared._

She dropped her gaze, fighting back tears because Henry had been so very real and that boy…that boy had tricked her. He had made her see something that wasn't really there…or had that been her? Perhaps she really was going crazy. Perhaps Pan had been an illusion too. She shook her head. The map in her back pocket was proof enough that it hadn't been one.

 _Someone I've been looking for, for a very long time._

Pan's words echoed inside her head. No good thing could come from Pan having an interest in Henry. If this map led her home then that also meant it led Pan to Henry. She shuddered at the thought. But she had to get home. _She had to._ But at what price? She wouldn't risk Henry's life. No. She would spend an eternity here if it meant keeping Henry safe.

"Give me your hand."

It was Hook who pulled her back to the present… or Past. Or her present anyway.

She blinked at him. "What?"

"It's cut. Let me help you."

She was too tired to argue with him and she let him take her hand in his. Just like he had in the Enchanted Forest, he used his mouth to tie his scarf to her hand. Lord help her. Her heart pounded in her chest. Then she mentally slapped herself. This was Hook. _Past_ Hook nonetheless, desires she could never act on—even if she wanted too. Not that she did want to.

When he was finished, he reached up and gently caressed the side of her bruised and cut face. She was sure the branches had done a number to her and she was thankful she wouldn't find a mirror on a pirate ship anytime soon. She knew then – in that moment – that the damage was permanent. Of course, there would always be scars. But even the angriest of scars faded over time until it was difficult to see them written on the skin at all. The only thing that would remain would be the memory of how painful it had been.

 _They can only work unless they were meant to._ Emma kept replaying the White Fairy's earlier words.

Hook was so close to her, dangerously close, yet she relished in his warmth all the same. Until that moment, she hadn't realized how cold it had gotten. Then suddenly, the skies opened up around them. Hook stepped away from her first. Very gently, he tugged on her arm and she followed him without question. It rained the remainder of their journey and by the time they reached the Jolly Roger, they were both soaked to the bone. His crew bombarded him the moment they stepped foot on the ship. They had been gone for a while, yet his crew was still up and about, waiting for their return. He didn't need to tell them that their mission had been ill-fated, for they could see it on his face. Still not use to the sea, Emma staggered slightly behind him and he caught her arm to balance her.

"You can sleep in my quarters tonight if you wish," he told her barely above a whisper. When she gave him that infamous pointed look of hers, he added, "Unless you wish to sleep in that lovely cell or worse the bunks. I'm sure my crew would love your company."

She scoffed at him in a way that told him she was not really annoyed with him. "Yeah. Yeah. I get it." She held up her arm to stop him. "I know where it is." Then as an afterthought, she added, "Thank you, Killian."

Then she was off, blond hair swooshing behind her. He didn't take his eyes off her. Even after she disappeared through his cabin doors, he didn't stop staring.

"Captain!" Bae rushed to his side, breaking him from his thoughts. "Did you find a way?" Bae asked, wide eye and full of hope. It saddened him, knowing he was about to crush the lad's heart.

It didn't take Killian long to realize that he was never going to use Bae for his own revenge. Yes, Bae had been the Dark One's son but he was also a part of Milah as well. In another world, Bae could have been his own and a part of him believed that it was his job to look after the lad. He owed it to Milah

"It's alright, lad." Hook knelt down so he was eye level with the boy. "We will find a way off this island in due time."

"But you said they would help us. You said she was our ticket off this island."

"She is," he insisted. "Now go get some rest."

"Aye," Bae whispered, the disappointment evident on his face.

Hook gave Baelfire a gentle push in the right direction, who hung his head in disappointment as he went. Killian knew Baelfire desired to return to the Darling family he had left behind. Though, a part of him hoped that if they did ever get off this wretched island, Bae would choose to stay aboard the Jolly Roger.

Despite his tiredness, Hook deliberately chose to ignore it and stay above ship. He kept Smee and Doyle company and also to attend the ship a while longer. Finally, when he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, he found his way to his cabin. He usually delighted in the idea of a nightcap. But this was different. Emma Swan wasn't some wench he had met at a bar. She had been here long enough for him to humanize her. Really, she was an open book. He understood her in more ways than one and that scared him.

He found her asleep at the bench by the window in a terribly uncomfortable position and he wondered how she had even managed to fall asleep like that. Surely, she would feel that in her neck tomorrow. He glanced at his bed, free for him to use, then back at Emma. A woman had not simply _slept_ in his bed since Milah.

 _Milah._

Neverland had damaged his sense of time. It was difficult to say how many years it had been sense her passing. Decades? Perhaps a century even. He could remember everything about her. Her smile. Her laugh. The way her eyes fluttered when she was flustered. Milah had been his everything. Right after her passing, the only thing that kept him going was his vengeance against the Dark One.

Emma muttered something in her sleep and he sighed. Then there was this Emma Swan. She was full of mystery and desire. She both intrigued and excited him, bringing up feelings he hadn't felt in a very, very long time—ones he honestly didn't think he'd ever see again. In Neverland, of all places.

He glanced at his bed one last time before making up his mind.

 _Bloody hell._

Very gently, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to his bed. Her head fell into the curve of his neck and she sighed in content. His heart soared at the sound and for a moment, he was back in that cell, kissing her with a feverish passion. He had not felt desire like this in a very long time. It took ahold of his heart, tormented him slowly. He was his own captive in a sense, tormented by his own mind. Then suddenly Milah was there in Emma's place and he practically dropped the Swan girl altogether.

No. Emma Swan was just a distraction, nothing more. He would get his vengeance. Even if it killed him.

He carefully untangled her from his arms and then covered her with a sheet. She rolled over onto the pillow, a smile gracing her beautiful face. As he took the seat by the window, he couldn't help but glance her way one last time. Gods above, she was going to be his undoing. He was sure of it.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Apologizes that its been awhile. Have been incredibly busy lately! I love movies and TV shows. It's an obsession really. You may notice a couple (or many) references to some of my favorite in this chapter! See if you can guess. Also, the rating is most certainly going to change in the next couple of chapters ;)**

Enjoy

 **Chapter 7**

The next day, Emma headed towards Granny's where she assumed she was meeting her parents. She thought they wanted to talk about something, something important that could not wait. Emma rolled her eyes, knowing all too well they wanted to talk about Neal. She thought about standing them up, but she knew that would just lead to more questions and more worried looks she didn't think she could handle. She forced herself to walk through the front door and found David sitting at the booth, looking quite panicked to see her. _That_ look could only mean one thing. She groaned, knowing she'd spend the rest of the day fighting some fairytale villain.

"Emma," David breathed out with relief. "Regina wasn't sure this would work. I'm afraid we don't have much time."

"What are you talking about?"

"Emma," David stated sternly. "This is a dream."

Everything hit her all at once. _Tamara. Neal. The portal. Hook. Neverland. Pan._ Panic threatened to overwhelm her sanity. She wished the sanctuary of the dream would come back, not this nightmare she was being subjected to.

"Regina put me under a sleeping curse. We weren't sure…"

Emma didn't need him to finish that sentence. She knew exactly what they thought had happened to her. Then she remembered what Greg and Tamara planned to do and her heart sank. She had left her family back in Storybooke to die.

"Oh my god… Greg and Tamara… _Henry_." As her panic swept in, hitting her full force, the dream shook around them, causing Emma to panic even more.

"Emma!" David said, pulling her back. He reached across the table and grabbed her hand. The walls slowly died down to a mere tremble. "Everyone is alright. We are handling Greg and Tamara. The important thing is that _you_ are alright."

Emma forced herself to focus, knowing that she could not hold onto this dream for much longer. "Yeah...I'm fine. I'm in Neverland."

"Neverland?" David's face lit up. "Stay put. We will come get—"

"No!" She cut him off. "You can't… I'm… I'm in the past. I don't know what time. Time moves differently here."

The hope fell from his face and onto the floor, Emma's along with it. Yet, as much as it pained her, she would not drag her family into this mess. She would find a way back home herself. Still, the walls around her began to crumble, the floor began to shake, all evidence of the doubt that had settled in her heart. Emma grasped the table to steady herself. A glass of water fell off the table and shattered onto the floor.

"The past?" David asked. He didn't even try to hide his own fear now. "Emma that's impossible. Time portals don't exist."

"Well someone cracked that code. Ask Hook."

Pictures began to fall off the walls, the windows shattered.

" _Hook_!? You're with Hook? That's impossible. He's with us."

"Well it is!" Emma shouted back. "And I don't know how to get back."

"Don't panic, Emma. We will find you. We will always—"

All at once, the dream collapsed in on itself—a tidal wave of concrete and debris, hitting her full force. Emma awoke with a sudden jolt. She could still feel the weight of David's hand in hers and the memory burned in the back of her mind. So her parents were safe. _Henry_ was safe. It calmed her only to a certain point.

 _We are handling Greg and Tamara,_ David had said.

Emma groaned. She wished they were _already_ handled. She hadn't missed the panic in his voice or that flash of fear in those bright blue eyes of his. She supposed it was a start and knowing everybody was safe would help her sleep at night—or so she hoped. A part of her knew that the nightmares would still come.

 _One step at a time, Emma. Have hope_ , came Mary Margaret's voice in her ear and Emma shoved it to the back of her head.

Yawning, Emma rolled over and pulled the sheets tighter around her. Then she sat up so suddenly that she practically fell out of the bed altogether. She very clearly remembered falling asleep at the window seat. In fact, she had purposely chosen not to sleep in Hook's bed, knowing all too well that he'd just slide in right next to her. The bed was way too small for two adults to share without touching. However, there she was, in Hook's bed—alone—without a clue of how she got there. She had an inkling, though—one she didn't care to venture at the moment.

That inkling was not in the cabin with her and she wondered how long she had slept for. It was hard to tell, given the sun had not yet risen and then she remembered. She didn't think she'd ever get use to that, no matter how long she ended up staying here.

The map Pan had given her was still in the back of her jeans. She pulled it out and stared at it, frowning. It was still blank. Still useless. Perhaps, if she stared at it long enough, it would magically appear.

Nothing.

 _You will only be able to read that map when you stop denying who you really are._

Emma groaned, fighting the urge to rip the parchment in half. This was probably just another cruel trick. The only thing she denied more than anything was being the Savior—something she'd never accept and Pan knew it. Or better yet, perhaps Pan wanted to see how long she'd stare at a blank map. She quickly pushed that thought to the back of her head, knowing that this was the one thing Pan had spoken truthfully of. He seemed to want her to find a way home just as much as she did.

 _He's a very special boy. Someone I've been looking for, for a very long time._

Emma shook the thought from her head. She couldn't think about that now. Then mustering up some courage and mentally preparing herself for the day ahead, she threw her legs off the bed and made her way to the deck. The few pirates that were up, paid her little attention. The majority of them seemed to be carrying on with their business, doing whatever pirates did. One did scoff at her as she passed him by, and she shot him a look that could kill. He went back to his drinking with a grunt. She rolled her eyes.

 _Pirates._

A few of them sat at the far end of the ship, watching two people sword fight. It took her a moment to realize that it was Hook and Baelfire. She watched them, mildly intrigued. They danced around each other, Bae taking the majority of swings—all of which Hook effortlessly blocked. Then Hook swung his sword to the left and Emma gasped. The sword would have gone straight through Neal if Hook hadn't stopped so abruptly.

"Dead," was all Hook said. Then his eyes flickered to Emma. "Lass, nice of you to join us."

A smile lit Bae's face at the sight of her. She supposed he must have forgiven her for their earlier conversation. Then with pure determination, he turned back to Hook, sword at the ready. Killian chuckled, knowing all too well what had spurred the lad's fire. Without warning, Bae lunged at him again. Their swords clashed against each other for a good couple of minutes before Hook managed to lock Bae in a position made to kill. Hook pointed his sword at Bae's neck.

"Dead," Hook said.

They both stepped away before going at it again. "Good," Hook would say every now and then, which usually followed by "dead" or "again." Once more, Hook's sword stopped only centimeters away from Bae's chest.

Emma realized then that they weren't just sword fighting for fun. Hook was _teaching_ Neal. She had never pegged Hook as the fatherly type, yet she could see it now. She could clearly remember their interaction in New York. Neal had known Hook but he hadn't mentioned the extent of their relationship. Then suddenly she was angry—angry at both of them—for not even mentioning this to her. Finally, Hook knocked the sword from Bae's grasp. It skidded across the floorboards before landing directly at her feet. She picked it up and swung it for practice.

"What do you say, Swan?" Hook spoke to her and only her. "Let's see what you're made of."

"Not much, I can assure you."

"Don't let him scare you! He's all talk." Baelfire cheered her on and Emma fought back a smirk.

Hook seemed to agree with Bae. "You bested half my men trying to escape. Surely, I won't be much of a challenge."

Emma threw back a laugh. If he was referring to her escape plan the other day, well, then he was going to be severely disappointed in her ability. She had managed to get off the ship because of luck, not skill. Not to mention, the majority of the pirates had been sleeping when she accidentally woke them up, startling them.

Emma shrugged. "Yeah, well… taking them by surprise in their sleep… wouldn't exactly call that sword fighting."

Still she gave the sword another practice swing for good measure. If she backed down now, she would never hear the end of it. Not to mention, they had quite the show now. Several more pirates had stopped what they were doing to watch them. And it was not like she hadn't fought Hook before.

"You're clever. I like that," Hook said with a cheeky grin.

Emma did her best to mirror his stance. Then he wiggled his eyebrows before lunging at her. Swords clashed against swords. She was a little more accustomed to the weight of it than when she had held one the first time in the Enchanted Forest. Still, the way Hook fought was almost like an art and she realized with every blow, that he wasn't holding back nearly as much as he had with Bae.

His sword came down, stopping right above her hip. "Dead," he said, though unlike with Neal, his voice came out a little more husky. Then he stepped back and lunged at her again, giving her hardly any time to recover.

Emma blocked it, just barely. This Hook certainly wasn't holding back and this fight was noticeably more difficult than the one they had back in the Enchanted Forrest with Cora. Worst part was, Hook wasn't even trying now. The thought caused her to pause. If he wasn't trying now, then he certainly hadn't tried back in the Enchanted Forest either. Had Hook let her win back there? Clearly, he had. _But why?_

"Good form," he said, bringing her back to reality. Even though she knew what would happen next, she was so lost in thought that he had his hook wrapped around her thigh before she could back away from him. "But not good enough." Then he sent her straight to the ground.

 _Not this again._

"Normally, I would prefer to do other, more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back." As he slid his hook down her sword, bracing it with own, she refused to let him finish that little innuendo. She brought her knee up fast and hard, hitting him where she knew it would hurt. Surprised flashed through his eyes as he stumbled backwards.

But hell, if he wanted to play dirty, well, then so would she.

Apparently, nobody hit the captain, for his crew let out cries of anger and protest. They all shot towards her but with a simple wave of a hand and shout of protest from Hook, they all stopped in their tracks—barely. She could see the anger coursing through them. She definitely had a lot more warming up to do. If there was one thing she would say about his crew it was that they were _very_ loyal—a quality she didn't think she'd ever find on a pirate ship.

Hook was up before she could get the upper hand. "Better." He held out his sword. He took a moment to look her up and down. She could practically see the sinful thoughts running through his head. Then with a smirk, he said, "Again."

Once more, they went at it, though this time, Hook's blows came harder and heavier. They danced a dance of swordsmen. Hook was skilled and she wondered who'd win in a sword fight: him or her father. Their swords clashed against each other, ringing loudly into the night. He whirled around. His theatrics caught her off guard and his sword came down, grazing her skin in the process. She winced, surprised that he had nicked her. As she stumbled backwards, her boot caught in the floorboards and suddenly she was falling, her sword flying out of her hand. Emma gritted her teeth and braced herself for the fall.

But it never came.

Hook caught her against his chest, his sword flung behind him next to hers. Emma tried to catch her breath. Hook was much too close. She could feel his breath on her cheek. Then much to her horror, he leaned in even closer. She could have sworn he was going to close the distance between them. Then one of his crewmates whistled and the Hook she knew vanished before her. She watched the darkness seep back into his eyes and watched as it consumed him.

"First lesson, love. Keep your mind focused on the fight," he told her, almost breathlessly.

Then he dropped her.

Emma landed with a grunt. He turned back to his crew, who gave out cheers of delight. He said something about "that is how it's done" and the men cheered even louder. She rolled her eyes at his arrogance and clear need to live up to his "reputation." God forbid captain Hook cared about someone other than himself.

Emma shoved herself off the deck. No one bothered to help her, though Bae looked like he wanted to. She glanced down at her arm, which looked more like a bad paper cut than a sword wound. Still, it was red and angry and had started to bleed. The pirates dispersed the moment Hook stepped away from them. As he headed straight towards the wheel, he shoved her aside. She raced after him, annoyed.

"Really?" she questioned. She honestly wasn't sure why she was so angry with him. It wasn't that he had nicked her or even his arrogance. It was more a combination of everything and anything, and Hook just happened to be the only person she could take it out on at the moment.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about, love." He took a long swig of his canteen, which angered her even more.

She held up her arm. "You did that on purpose."

"Mistakes happen, love."

 _Lie._

God, she wanted to smack that stupid smile off his face.

"Really, it's just a scratch. You'll live, _princess._ " Hook took the wheel, staring off into the distance and refusing to meet her gaze. She didn't know what his problem was, nor did she particular understand why she cared so much. For reasons unknown to her, her presence bothered him and she couldn't figure out why. At least with this Hook— _past Hook_ —she was just some girl who stood in the way between him and his vengeance.

Nothing more.

It shouldn't have bothered her but it did. Finally, she was willing to admit that she missed _her_ Killian. She missed the man she had left on the beanstalk and the one she had left behind in Storybrooke because while this Hook certainly looked the part, he had a long way to go before he became the man she knew.

"Do you care about anyone other than yourself?" she snapped, mostly because she needed to know that she meant a little more to him than just some pawn in a game.

Hook looked her straight in the eye, his gaze cold. "Not anymore."

Emma shook her head. "No. I don't believe that. You and I. We understand one another."

"So what's your point, lass?"

" _So,"_ Emma emphasized. "No matter how shallow and self-absorbed you pretend to be—"

Hook cut her off in a hurry. "Excuse me, there's no pretense here. I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow."

"No you're not. Or you wouldn't be so unhappy."

She hit a nerve. She wasn't sure what hurt more: his silence or the look he gave her. Hook shoved her roughly aside without a word and stomped angrily across the deck. Emma watched him make his way to the opposite end of the ship, disappointment and sorrow filling her like a balloon.

And so began their battle of silence. Emma did not know how long it lasted and she quickly lost track of the hours that went by. After all, the sun refused to rise and the pirates seemed to doze off whenever they pleased, giving her little indication of when night ended and day began. Though, she had to admit, her ability to avoid Hook in such confining space was actually remarkable, especially considering she was sharing his cabin with him. She wasn't the only one doing the avoiding though. He didn't seem to have a problem with it. In fact, he seemed to welcome it, which only made her angrier.

His silence did make it easier in some respects. When the White Fairy did come up with a solution to making Hook forget her, she would have no problem with seeing it through. His reaction frustrated her, mostly because she was still trying to grasp the idea that she was a complete stranger to him. He had no moral obligation to her. He could very well throw her overboard if he pleased. He had a right to be frustrated with her though. After all, she knew so much about him while he knew so little about her. She'd certainly be annoyed if their roles were reversed.

Something else came with his silence though, something she hadn't felt in a long time she realized. She felt alone. Even with a ship full of pirates, she had never felt more alone in her life. She realized, she hadn't felt like this since before Henry had showed up at her doorstep over a year ago.

His issues with her, though seemed to spread, like an infection, to the rest of his crew. They paid her little attention and if they did say anything, it was often some quip about how she should probably get to "women's work." They too, however, learned that she wasn't some "princess" and that she could take care of herself. This eventually lead to them ignoring her all together. All of his crew, accept for one that is.

His name was Doyle, or at least she thought it was. He was older than all the rest and looked exactly like you'd think a retired pirate would. He had specks of black in his graying hair, an eye patch covering his left eye and a red scarf around his neck.

"Don't take it to heart, Miss." Doyle told her. She hated that the old man had caught her staring at Hook. He was helping with the sail, though every once in a while he would sneak a glance her way. "He has seen great loss," Doyle added. He had a rough voice, raw and true.

"Haven't we all?"

Doyle shrugged. "Not like him."

Emma dropped her gaze. "Milah," she whispered.

"Aye," Doyle said. He seemed genuinely surprised that she knew this and then she wondered if she had made a mistake. Sensing her hesitation, Doyle added, "The Captain does not talk about her much. He trusts you." Then after a pause, he added. "He loved her very much. Her death changed him."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Doyle shrugged. "Because there's a light in his eyes I haven't seen in a very, _very_ long time."

-x-

The next day—or night—(she couldn't tell) she bolted upright with a scream on her lips. As was custom, her heart began to beat staccato, like a rapid exchange of gunfire. She wasn't sure how long it took for her to calm down. It could have been mere minutes or even hours before she realized that she was in Hook's cabin.

She needed air.

The moment she set foot outside, she welcomed the cool air. It seemed as if the majority of Hook's crew was below deck somewhere, most likely sleeping. The temperature had dropped considerably, which was perhaps the only way to distinguish between nights and days. It felt strange and incredibly relaxing to be the only one out on deck—well almost the only one anyway. Hook stood at the far end of the ship, staring out into the distance. The waters extended far beyond her eye of sight. She wondered why he didn't just bother sailing off if he hated the island so much.

"I've tried to sail away from this Godforsaken island more times than I can count," Hook said suddenly, causing her to freeze. She had hardly made a sound, yet he had heard her thoughts loud and clear. It was also the first thing he had said to her in what seemed like an eternity. She hated that he had the uncanny ability to see right through her. "Yet no matter how far or long we sail, we somehow always end up right back here." He finally turned to her, his blue eyes boring into her green ones. "Couldn't sleep, love?"

She thought about telling him that she just needed some air, but then she was right back in her nightmare and she realized she didn't want to be alone right now. She shifted towards him, telling herself it was to keep warm. She focused her attention to the horizon in front of her.

"It was just a dream," she said, though she was not quite sure if she was trying to convince him or herself.

He didn't buy it. "You aren't the only one who has nightmares, love."

She couldn't look at him, not now, not when she was this upset. She knew the moment she met those blue eyes of his, she would unravel at the seams. "I feel like I'm being cut into so many pieces I can't even figure out how to put myself back together anymore."

"Emma—," he began, the apology on his lips.

She cut him off. "Hook, it's okay. I understand."

He grabbed her wrist and held it up to meet her gaze. "I'm sorry for the other day. Truly. I should have been more careful." He dropped his hand and grazed his thumb over the cut. She shivered at his touch. "The truth is, Emma. You frighten me."

He terrified her too and his big reveal only made it worse. It was alarmingly honest. Her pulse quickened and she was sure her heart was beaten so loudly that he could hear it.

"I scare _you?"_ She tried to play it off with humor but it came out more of a whisper. Frail. Weak. Scared.

"Aye," he said.

The war in his eyes was all too real. She had meant what she said earlier, despite his arrogance. They did understand each other. She understood his need to pretend like he didn't care. Because when you didn't care, you didn't get hurt.

"You heard them," she said. "The crying."

He dropped her arm and turned his back to her. "Aye."

Emma accepted his answer without further question. Silence swept in between them and it was strangely comforting. She kept sneaking glances at him. Every now and then he would catch her staring and she would direct her gaze quickly back to the ocean. Just when she couldn't take the silence any longer, a ball of yellow light shot across the sky.

"Ah! Will you look at that," Hook said, gesturing above them. "A shooting star."

"In my world, we wish on them," she told him absent-mindedly

"Aye, I believe they do that in every world."

Emma hardly heard him. "But then I found out that shooting stars are not stars at all. They're just rocks that enter the atmosphere and catch fire under friction. What we wish on is only a trail of debris."

She wasn't quite sure why she was telling him this. After all, she rarely spoke about her childhood, nor was it something she wanted to remember. But she had seen the look on his face in the forest.

 _He could hear the crying too._

Hook gave her an incredulous look. That was a harsh reality—even for him. "But surely you know Swan?"

"Know what?"

"Stars were people so well loved, they were traced in constellations, to live forever."

Emma gave him a pointed look. "And you believe that?" She knew he was just trying to make her feel better and damn him, it was working. Honestly, that annoying smirk was enough; his sly charms were just an added bonus.

He took a half step closer to her. Then he pointed up to the stars above. "Take Ambrus for instance—a poor shepherd's son who fell in love with a princess. He immortalized himself in the stars so he could keep her safe forever." He pointed to the far right and she had to crane her neck to see. "Lavanya, a handmaid who gave her life to the Gods so her child could live." He pointed directly above them, continuing on with stories of Petros, Elena and Maximus.

Emma couldn't help the smile from tugging at the corner of her lips. She had never heard Hook speak so passionately about something before—well, beside his vengeance for Gold maybe. However, this was something different. There was a new kind of light in his eyes. It was both pleasant and welcoming, a side she wished he showed more of.

Still, she couldn't help but ask, "I've never heard of these constellations before."

"Well of course not. We are in Neverland."

She hadn't thought about it like that before. She always pictured every realm under one sky, one galaxy. It made perfect sense that Neverland had its own constellations. After all, it had five moons, and it all made her feel incredibly small.

"The point is, love," Hook said, pulling her from her thoughts. "If you can read the stars then you can always find your way back home."

She found his eyes again. They spoke volumes.

Another star shot across the sky.

"What would you wish for?" he whispered, his voice at her ear. It sent shivers up her spine.

"I wouldn't wish for anything," she said stubbornly. It was true, she learned a long time ago that wishes didn't come true.

"Nothing?" He feigned surprised. "You could have _anything—_ anything at all _—_ and you'd wish for nothing?" Hook ran his hand threw his hair. Then he wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Not even...say a dashingly hansom pirate to keep you occupied?"

Her eyes were suddenly shining with amusement. Just for the heck of it, she pointed to the largest moon in the sky. "I'll take that."

She laughed at the expression on his face. It was music to his ears. He liked this side of her. Sensing his opportunity, he took a step towards her. "Alright," he said, choosing to play along. "I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down."

"You'd give me the moon?" she questioned, eyebrows raising.

He'd give her the world if she asked for it. "Aye. Anything you wish."

She eyed his lips, wanting so much more than a moon right now. Then he shifted the tinniest bit closer to her and everything seemed to hit her all at once. As if sensing her need to flee, he took a step towards her and enclosed his hook around her wrist. They were so close now, she could feel his breath on her cheek. Her heart pounded in her chest, yearning for him to close the distance between them. He brought his other hand up to caress her cheek and she forced herself to look him in the eye. That was when she knew he would not act on his urges. The decision was her choice, yet she couldn't bring herself to close the distance between them.

 _This was Hook. This was Past Hook._

He must have sensed her inner turmoil. With a gentle sigh, he took a step back, the moment lost. "You should go back to sleep, love."

Regret caught in the back of her throat. She retreated towards the cabin but paused at another thought. "Killian," she practically called.

He turned towards her. He was looking at her with those doe eyes of his. For a brief moment, she thought about running back to him and giving herself completely to him. She wanted him to break down her walls, take her into his arms, and tell her everything was going to be okay.

"Yes, love?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

No. She couldn't. "What would you wish for?" she asked him instead.

"Something I can't have," Hook whispered, losing herself in a thousand thoughts, not one of which Emma could guess.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Another day had come and gone and still no word from the White Fairy. Or at least, Emma thought a day had gone by. It sure felt like it had. To her, it felt like she had been on this ship for _days_ and _days,_ with no end in sight. Of course, the small quarters didn't help her sanity. The pirates didn't seem to care for her and Hook seemed far too busy to keep her entertained. If she stayed in such confining space for much longer, she would go crazy or worse, she would throw someone overboard. Hook's crew did little to welcome her and if Lester kept throwing insults at her, one of them wasn't making it off this ship alive.

Emma bit her lip, wondering if the White Fairy even planned to help her at all. Her doubts only seemed to manifest to the point of agony. Her boredom was probably how she found herself studying the blank map Pan had given her on the floor of Hook's cabin.

"I'm Emma Swan," she said to the empty room, feeling incredibly stupid.

 _Don't hold anything back,_ came her mother's voice in her ear.

Emma glared at the empty spot directly across from her. It took very little to imagine her parents sitting across from her, giving nods of encouragement, eyes filled with hope. In what should have concerned her, only comforted her in some strange way. As long as she got home, she didn't care what level of crazy it took to get there.

 _"You will only be able to read that map when you stop denying who you really are,"_ Pan had said.

Whatever the hell that meant.

So with a heavy sigh, she turned back to the map and told it her whole life story. She said that she was Henry's mother, that she use to live in Boston and worked as a bail bonds person. She told it that she was the product of true love and that she was the sheriff of Storybrooke. She told it everything and anything she could think of, and still, no matter what she said, the map stayed stubbornly blank. The more she talked, the stupider she felt. She closed her eyes, doing her best to push down the frustration bubbling up inside her.

When she attempted magic on it as a last resort, she knew she was going crazy. However, magic was something she still hadn't grasped quite yet and the idea that she even possessed it, creeped her out in more ways than she could count. Hell, she didn't even know _how_ to use it, which basically made the whole attempt utterly pointless. Times like this, she really missed Regina. Regina would know what to do and would have done _anything_ to get back to Storybrooke.

Emma gripped at her hair. "This is stupid."

 _Keep trying sweetheart,_ she could hear her father saying.

She threw a book at the empty space and David's mirage disappeared.

Angrily, she shoved the parchment back under the loose floors boards where Hook wouldn't find it and heaved herself off the floor. What was the point if the White Fairy was just going to send her back anyway? She didn't need Pan's help. Sure. But she also didn't mind keeping her options open either.

Emma crossed the length of the cabin. A large built-in bookshelf took up almost the entire wall. Perusing the titles, she absently scanned over them, grazing them with her fingers as she went. Many of the novels she recognized. Others she didn't. Shakespeare and Dickinson and Austin. She didn't particularly peg Hook as a reader, yet she could tell that someone had read these novels many times over. One book in particular caught her attention. Its spine was worn and tattered from years of wear and tear. When she pulled it off the shelf, she feared it would break in half.

 _Romeo and Juliet._ Emma chuckled to herself. Somehow it didn't surprise her that this was the most worn out book on Hook's shelf. She opened the cover, admiring the handiwork. She realized then that she had probably never seen or held anything _this_ old before. The history behind it was both beautiful and alarming. It made her feel incredibly small. Her fingers brushed over the inside cover, which apparently belonged to a "Liam". She got the sudden feeling that she was looking at something that didn't belong to her when a voice boomed throughout the cabin.

"What are you doing?"

Emma jumped a mile high. He had startled her so much that she not only managed to drop the book she was holding but three others along with it. She fumbled for it, praying that she hadn't damaged it. Hook took three long strides across the cabin and snatched it from her hands. He held it for a moment before placing it back on the shelf where it belonged.

"Who's Liam?" Emma asked, unable to help herself. Her voice sounded a lot smaller than it usually did.

"He was my brother," Hook stated in a tone that told Emma she shouldn't pry any further. Then he surprised her, when he added, almost as an afterthought, "He was a good man."

She regarded him quietly. He refused to meet her gaze, incredibly uncommon of him, and she could tell that Liam had meant a great deal to him. _He's seen great loss_ , Doyle had told her. She had thought he was talking about Milah. Now she realized how wrong she had been.

"I'm sorry," she told him honestly.

Hook gave her a forced smile. "Not your doing." Hook stared at the bookshelf then, loosing himself in a thousand thoughts. "Most of these were his. You can borrow them if you'd like. I know how confining a ship can be at times."

Finally, he turned back to her. She saw her Killian there, not the pirate he pretended to be. Then she understood. These novels were just a means of escape, a means to forget, a means to live a different life than the ones we were given.

After all, she would know.

Particularly as a child, she loved to read. Books transported her to another world. They helped her forget that her parents had abandoned her on the side of the road. It helped her forget the countless numbers of foster families that took her in. It helped her forget that she was alone.

"Thank you."

Emma noticed his attire. He had a satchel around his torso and his sword attached at the hip. She could recognize a man on the run anywhere. Years of chasing after people had taught her that.

"Where are you going?" she questioned, eyebrows raised.

He gave her a pointed look. "We are running low on supplies. Few others and I are going inland. We shouldn't be gone long."

She thought it strange and slightly amusing that he could not look her in the eye as he said this. Her lie detector blared inside her head. Why Hook would lie to her, though, she had absolutely no idea.

"I'm going with you," she insisted, staring him straight in the eye.

"No you aren't."

"Yes I am."

"No you aren't."

"Yes I am."

Hook stared her down, but much to his dismay, she stared right back. _Bloody hell._ With a heavy and slightly frustrated sigh, he caved. "Emma. We are going to the Dark Hollow. It's dangerous."

"So?"

"It's the darkest spot on the entire island. The only light that makes its way in, is snuffed out by the shadows that call it home.

"Why can't it be called something like sunshine valley or rainbow cove?"

Hook ignored her. "Even I managed to avoid it."

"Then why are we going there?"

"I have an idea."

"Care to elaborate?"

"The young lad got me thinking. He insists that the only way off the island is through Pan…but that's not entirely true is it? Pan's shadow brought Baelfire here..."

Emma was so happy that she could have kissed him. "You want to trap it," she finished for him.

Hook looked down. "Look…I know it's a long shot but—"

"It's brilliant." Now _that_ took him aback. He hadn't really expected her to be so onboard with the plan. After all, it was just a long shot and if it worked, the shadow would only get them off the island. It wouldn't transport her through time—wherever this Storybrooke was. "When do we leave?" Emma asked.

" _I'm_ leaving now. You shall wait for my return," Hook replied with a smirk. Then mostly to get her riled up, he turned his back and left the cabin. She took the bait and followed closely behind him.

"Isn't that a lovely picture," Emma shot back.

"Ah! Captain. Thar ye be." Doyle pulled Hook aside and held out a large map. "I reckon th' best course of action would be to cut around Crimson's Peak…"

Their voices faded out as she drifted towards the small rowboat that some of the crew was preparing. It looked as if ten or so would be heading inland, while the rest tended to the ship. There was certainly room for one more. With Hook's back turned, she hopped into the rowboat and shuffled to the opposite side.

"Oye!" Lester, the largest and ugliest of Hook's crew shouted at her. "What'd ye think ye be doin'?"

"I'm coming with you," Emma replied calmly, which only caused the pirate to go red in the face.

"Bloody hell, ye're not!"

Emma did not fear much, though the thought of what Lester could do to her did make her hesitate. She doubted it would take much strength for him to break her arm with a single hand. Thankfully, Hook stepped into the rowboat at that exact moment. He gave a small frown at seeing her there. Then glanced back at Lester.

"What's she doin'?" Lester snapped.

"I told you," Emma cut in at the same time. "I'm coming with you."

After a very long moment of silence, Hook said, "As the lady wishes."

Lester huffed, clearly wanting to challenge him. Emma wondered who Hook would side with if it came down to it. A part of her hoped it wouldn't come to that.

-x-

This time, the trek through Neverland didn't seem nearly as daunting as the first time. When Hook took the lead, she didn't argue with him, though she did stick close to his side. In the time it took to cross the shore, Lester had called her every name in the book. It was Doyle who finally told him to shut the hell up. So Lester just sat across from her and eyed her down while he sharpened his sword. She was fairly confident the only reason he hadn't thrown her overboard yet was because Hook told him not to.

"Don't mind Lester," Hook told her once they were on shore.

Emma threw a look over her shoulder to make sure the others weren't listening to them. The last thing she needed was Lester eavesdropping on how much she hated him. They were slightly ahead of everyone else. Lester took up the rear.

"He's a real gem," she muttered under her breath.

"Wouldn't worry about him too much. He's all talk. I can imagine he hasn't met many women who have challenged him the way you have."

"I'm going to take that as a good thing."

Hook chuckled at that. "I would say so."

They fell silent as they made their way up the mountain. Emma welcomed it too, for even though she considered herself fairly fit, she was finding this climb rather difficult. It was a sharp uphill climb with such a narrow path that she feared where one misplaced step might send her. Surely there was an easier way? The further they climbed, the more difficult she found it to breathe, let alone talk. Judging from Hook's sharp breathing and the fact that the others were significantly falling behind, she realized she wasn't the only one struggling. Then finally, _finally,_ the terrain leveled out and she was able to catch her breath.

"Neverland is like that," Hook said, breaking their silence.

She sensed what he was getting at. "I'm fine."

"Oh I know." Hook smirked and handed her his canteen. She accepted it without question and only stopped chugging it to breathe.

They were about half way up the mountain, but the view did not disappoint. Neverland's largest moon was unnaturally large. It seemed to swallow the ocean as it rose to meet the stars.

"It has been an awfully longtime since I've seen the sun," Hook admitted as they watched the moonrise.

"It has been that long?"

Emma often forgot that she wasn't the only one trapped. The thought that Hook had been trapped on this island for so long and had yet to find a way out, terrified her. What would she do if the White Fairy couldn't get her back home?

Hook shrugged. "I don't know. I've lost count. Though, I suppose I could have tried harder to leave. Neverland… it makes you forget." Then suddenly, Hook said. "Tell me about your boy,"

Emma nearly choked on the water, not thinking she heard him right. However, when he turned to her, eyebrows raised in question, she realized Hook had asked exactly what she'd thought. "Henry?"

"Aye. Is that the young lad's name?"

"Yes… Henry. He's perfect. He's beautiful and real." Then a little more softer, she admitted, "He's everything I'm not."

"I somehow doubt that, Swan. Very much so."

"He has so much strength and courage. He's a good kid."

Hook cut a branch in front of them. "That may be so, but I don't know too many who would have gone the lengths you have gone to get back to your boy."

"And your point is?"

"I want to know _why?"_

Finally, he turned to her. She scowled at him. "What do you mean _why?_ He's my son. Isn't that enough of a reason?"

"For most. Yes but I think there's something more. You don't want him to be abandoned the way you were abandoned."

She hated when he did that. She hated how he could see right through her.

"What's this? Twenty questions?"

"Twenty what?"

"Nevermind," she said. As she shoved passed him, he caught her wrist with his hook.

"Emma… I don't mean to upset you. It's just…your lad. He's lucky." Then softer, he whispered, "I'd imagine not every parent would cross realms to get back to their child."

Emma thought of her own parents and the lengths they went to to save her and their kingdom. "I can't imagine what type of parent wouldn't."

Hook gave her a sad smile. "Aye. Difficult to imagine. Yes."

She realized her mistake the moment the smile fell from his face. She wanted to tell him that she understood. She wanted to tell him that for years she had thought her parents had abandoned her too, that they had left her for dead. She wanted to tell him that even though they _hadn't,_ that the pain was still there. The memories still burned in her mind. She would always be an orphan whether that waas true or not. Life wasn't fair. Life had cheated her of a mother and a father, the same way Killian had been abandoned by his.

But somehow, she couldn't quite bring the words to life and before she could muster up the strength to say something, anything, he was gone.

-x-

After the other pirates caught up to them, Hook decided they had all earned a short break. Emma embraced it, quietly wandering off, though not completely out of sight. She did not need any plant—or anything for that matter—attacking her again. She was filling up her canteen when she heard her name.

 _"Emma!"_

Emma shot up, eyes alert, panic filling her like a balloon. The voice came again. When she realized that it wasn't the green plant talking to her, but the tiny person behind it, Emma sighed with relief.

"Tinkerbell?" Emma asked, confusion filling her. "What are you doing here?"

Tink stepped out from behind the plant, though stayed crouched down, out of sight from the others. Emma crouched down next to her, wishing she blended so easily into the shadows like Tink. Tink shot a skeptical look towards the pirates. None of them were paying any concern to her as far as she could tell, nor did she have any idea where Hook had wandered off to.

"It's about time!" Tink hissed. "Where have you been?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The White Fairy said _three days!_ Where have you been?"

"I know," Emma snapped back. "I was there. It hasn't been three days yet."

"It has been a lot longer than that," Tink scoffed.

Emma's heart fell inside her chest. "What?" If three days had already gone by then how much time had she wasted? How much sooner could she have gotten back home?

"Time moves differently here. Didn't Hook tell you?" Tink said, not quite as harsh. "The White Fairy asked me to give you this." Tink shoved a green bottle into her hand. "There's enough for two doses. Half for Bae and half for Hook."

Emma held the tiny bottle up and examined it in the moonlight. The liquid was green and bubbly. It almost seemed to glow in the palm of her hand. "I can't expect them to just drink this without questions."

Tink shrugged. Clearly, this wasn't her problem. "I don't know. Get them drunk or something."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Gee. Thanks for the help."

"I'm just the messenger."

"And they'll forget?" Emma asked.

"Once you leave Neverland, they'll forget ever having met you," Tink told her and Emma could only nod. Sad with regret and disappointment. She didn't want them to forget. "Good luck," Tink offered, though she didn't sound like she meant it. "So there you go. The future won't implode now."

"Tinkerbell!" Emma called out. Tink turned back to her, eyebrows raised. "Did she say anything about helping me get back home?"

Tink gave her a look of pity. "I'm sorry. She's still looking for a way."

All the same, Emma caught the lie. "Wait! There's something more. Tell me. I need to know. If there's a way…"

Tink bit her lip. "It's just… the fairies aren't exactly sure how a magic bean was able to transport you here, to this time that is. It was _very_ powerful magic and there are not many spells to reverse something so powerful so easily."

Emma's heart sank. Tink didn't need to say anything more, for nothing was more powerful than "true love."

 _Have you ever been in love?_ She could recall Hook asking on the beanstalk.

Emma closed her eyes, fighting back tears. At the time, she had thought of Neal but now, she realized that what she had with Neal had been real, not true. The only true love in her life was back in Storybrooke. What little hope Emma had left seemed to slip from her fingers and fall to the ground. She may very well be stuck here forever. She may very well never return to Storybrooke. She may never see Henry grow up.

Never, as it turned out, was an awfully long time.

-x-

Hook was not sure what to make of the Swan girl when they set off again. A moment ago, she was all determined and full of hope. Now she just hung her head, remaining dreadfully quiet. When he stepped closer to her, he saw that her eyes were red and raw from crying. He couldn't think of what could have upset her in such a short amount of time. He let her be, knowing she didn't want to talk to him at the moment. In fact, he didn't even bother approaching her until they got closer to the cave.

"You alright love?"

"I'm fine," she said quietly. Then after a moment of silence, she asked, "Do you think this will work? Capturing the shadow?"

No. He wasn't sure at all. In fact, he thought this plan was incredibly stupid. The White Fairy was one of the most powerful fairies in all the lands. If she didn't even have a way, then Seven Hells he would. The shadow, in the very least, would get them off the island, away from that wretched boy. But he couldn't tell her this when she was looking at him with those big, sad eyes of hers, so instead, he told her, "You're going to get back to your boy, Swan."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I'm sure."

She gave him a weak smile. Then realizing they had stopped she looked around. The Dark Hollow stood a couple yards away from them.

"Aye." Hook whispered before turning to his crew. Like him, they feared the cave, but they feared the thought of staying on the island for an eternity far more. "Remember what we talked about. Don't look it in the eye and remember that it fears light. Pan's shadow is just a pawn in this child's game. If we—"

He heard the swoosh of the arrow before he saw it. It nearly grazed his neck. He whirled around, not at all surprised that Pan and his lost ones had followed them there. The arrow was not meant to kill. It was a warning. Just the sight of the child, standing there, smirking at them was enough to make his blood boil.

"Oh please. Don't stop because of me," Pan said, amusement lacing in between his words.

"Well, well. Look who decided to join the party," Hook replied and crew gave a few jeers of their own.

Pan's puppet, the tall one with the hateful look in his eyes, sneered in his direction. "Ah! Captain. Long time no see." Rufio smirked at him and then smirked at Emma. The thought of this child just _looking_ at her—no, _thinking—_ about her was more than enough to rile him up. That godforsaken boy didn't know what was coming for him.

He was going to enjoy hearing Rufio scream. "Not long enough," Hook taunted.

"I thought I told you that the only way off this island is through me?" Pan shouted.

Hook shrugged, "I believe I've outstayed my welcome."

"Why don't you leave that up to me," Pan shouted back. "You should know by now that cheaters never win."

Pan whistled and the Lost Ones answered him with cries of battle. Torches lit up around them. The Lost Boys had them surrounded in a matter of seconds. They were so young, yet every one of them held some sort of weapon in their hand. These boys were much too young to fight; they were much too young to die. But Neverland did that. It made you forget. It made you want to kill a child.

Pan smirked as he stepped back into the shadows. Emma raced after him, but Hook caught her arm. It was no use. "He's not worth it. You'll never catch him." Hook nervously eyed the torches around him, wondering how the hell they were all going to get out of this alive. He was an excellent fighter and had taught his crew well, but they were far outnumbered. His mind was already processing, thinking. More importantly, he was thinking of a way to get her out.

He took a slight step in front of her. He refused to let her die on his watch and a part of him wondered why and when he had become so attached to her—and so suddenly at that. He told himself it was so he too could get back to her world and seek his revenge, but he couldn't even fool himself. Emma Swan meant much more to him than that now and he honestly didn't know what to make of his feelings towards her.

"Watch out for the arrows," Hook whispered to her. "They're laced with dreamshade." He was not quite sure she heard him though, as the Lost Boys let out a round of hollers and everything seemed to explode all at once.

One minute they were huddled together and the next they were thrown into utter chaos. _He couldn't see her_ was his first thought. He could see Lester, who was nearest to him, in the middle of the fight taking on three Lost Boys. He blocked each attack. With little effort on his part, Lester sent one of the boys flying through the air. It was for this very reason that he was happy to have Lester on his side. He could see Hector and Cutler fending off a few boys to the far right. Gibs ran by with a knife, chasing a small child, and nearly knocking over Turner in the process.

Still, _he could not see her_.

He was just about to call out her name when an arrow whizzed by him. He followed the arrow's path, which had been directed at his favorite crewmate. Doyle dodged it but just barely.

"Careful," Hook hissed. He didn't think he could bear to lose another one of his men to that wretched poison. Then with a pat on the back, he shoved Doyle back into the fight.

" _Emma!"_ he called as he blocked a blow with his sword. With a gentle shove, he sent the Lost Boy to the ground.

"What's wrong Captain? Can't find your girlfriend?"

Hook whirled around. He couldn't help the satisfaction tugging at the corner of his lips. Rufio _—_ the child he may possibly hate even more than Pan. At least Pan had a motive, an endgame. Rufio was the epitome of evil and enjoyed causing pain for pleasure.

"Ah! Rufio. It's about time."

"I'm going to make her scream Captain." Rufio gave him a twisted smile. "And you're going to watch."

His blood boiled but he did not let Rufio's words get the best of him. "I imagine a far worse fate for you," Hook sneered at him. Without warning, Hook swung. Rufio blocked it, barely. He swung once more and his sword left an angry trail of blood down Rufio's face, no doubt scaring him for life. Rufio gave him a sadistic smile.

That was when he saw her. She raced up the hill, chasing after some small child Hook didn't recognize. A newbie most likely, another orphan lost to Pan's devilish ways. She tackled him to the ground and then suddenly they were tumbling down the hill. But thankfully she landed on top and his heart soared with relief. If he—

Bam!

He was on the ground in an instant and for a moment, all he could see were the stars. _Bloody Hell_. He had been so preoccupied with Emma and her safety that it was enough for Rufio to get the upper hand. Rufio was fast but Hook was faster. Hook threw his hook up in the air just in time to block the blow. Anger flashed in Rufio's eyes but so did triumph. The child had Hook exactly where he wanted and he was using it to his advantage. Rufio had his knee pressed directly on his heart, making it rather difficult to breathe. In fact, he _couldn't_ breathe. Rufio was suffocating him.

"I'm going to enjoy this," Rufio whispered.

Just when Hook started to see dots, Rufio's weight was thrown off him. Hook choked as the air rushed to his lungs. He couldn't dally, though. There was no time. Someone pulled him to his feet.

Doyle gave him a pointed look. "I believe it was you who always said to keep your mind on the fight?"

Hook just glared. Now was not the time for a lesson.

Hook resumed fighting stance when a whistle echoed out into the night. _Pan._ Hook turned, surprised to find the Lost Boys had all scattered. Well, all except the one Emma had a hold of. She pressed her blade into the boy's neck. The Boy's eyes were wide with fear and for the first time in a long time, Hook didn't see a Lost boy, only a boy. This was no villain. This was just a _child._ They were all children, something that was so easily forgotten here. These boys were just pawns in Pan's sick, sick game.

In that moment he had never wanted to leave Neverland more than he did then. He was sick of this land without time. He was sick of this island messing with his mind. He needed to leave and more importantly, he wanted Emma to leave with him. He was tired of living an endless, meaningless life.

"Tell me," Emma shouted. "How do I get off the island. Tell me!"

Her voice cracked and he swallowed the pain that came along with hers. He didn't expect to see the darkness in her eyes. He didn't think her capable of harming a child—and she wasn't, he knew that. Like he said, Neverland did things to people. It messed with your mind. It messed with your soul.

"Swan," he whispered. Very gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder. His touch must have brought her back to reality, her eyes suddenly grew wide with fear as she came back to him. Then with a shaking hand, she dropped the knife and fell off the boy. Hook caught her against his chest and heaved her up. The boy scrambled to his feet and quickly joined the others. Pan stood in front of them all, a sly smile at this lips.

When he finally spoke, he spoke only to Emma. "I see you've picked your side. You're going to regret it. You'll soon realize Emma that the only way you are getting back to your boy is through me."

Pan whistled twice more. The first time, his Lost Boys scattered. The second whistle brought something darker, something sinister. The air around them suddenly froze and Hook's breath caught in his chest. Hope, peace and happiness seemed to drain out of the air around them. Emma held on a little tighter to his arm. That's when he saw it. The black shadow swooped down, out of nowhere, heading directly for them—for _her._

He pushed her out of the way. The shadow hit him head on and pain exploded from inside his chest. As everything went black, he could have _sworn_ she called out his name.

* * *

 **Thoughts?**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: As you can see I've changed rating. I'm sure you can guess why. ;)**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 9**

As it turned out, hell was all around us. It watched over us in our nightmares when we were asleep. It was misery, regret and broken promises. It was watching the people you cared about in pain. It was coming in during the second act when it was already too late to stop it.

The shadow, a swirling figure of concentrated blackness, lifted Hook off the ground and slammed him into a tree. Emma felt the unnatural cold wash over her. The stars and moon above them vanished. Angry black clouds swarmed in. It was cold, so utterly cold that it bit into her skin. Every good feeling, every happy memory seemed to suck out of her in an instant. Instead, all she saw were the broken pieces of her childhood, a child left on the side of the road, alone.

Hook let out a cry of pain that ripped through Emma's heart. The pirates raced to him, swinging their swords at the figure, but the shadow held Hook too far above ground for them to reach. Emma could have sworn she was seeing things. To her it looked as if the Shadow was sucking the soul out of Hook. _No._ It was sucking the life out of him.

 _It was killing him._

 _"Hook!"_ Emma shouted.

Several of them resorted to rocks, and while a couple of them hit their target, Emma knew it was of no use. The rocks and swords went right through the shadow, hitting Hook instead, which quite defeated their purpose. Emma felt incredibly helpless in that moment. _The only light that makes its way in is snuffed out by the shadows that call it home,_ she recalled Hook saying when it came to her. Light! She could hear Mary Margaret whispering in her ear, _Light trumps darkness every time, Emma._ She grabbed the nearest branch she could find. There was nothing to light it with…unless. Emma shoved her fear and panic aside. Now was not the time for self-doubt. She knew she had magic, she knew she could do this. She'd done it before and she could do it again.

If she just concentrated…

She could feel it. Magic. It ran through her veins, fluttered when she wiggled her fingers. It was a part of her the same way she felt her heart beat inside her chest. She tugged on its strings, but it was just out of reach. Something held her back. When she closed her eyes, doing everything she could just to focus, all she could see were the memories she wished to bury and a childhood she didn't want to remember. Emma snapped her eyes open, realizing now that this was the Shadow's doing.

Hook screamed again and something inside her snapped. His anguish was enough to force back those damaged memories. She focused on every happy memory she could think of. _Henry. Her memories. Even Neal._ But it was one memory in particular that did the trick and the branch ignited with a hiss. Overcome with emotion, Emma laughed with relief. The shadow loosened its hold on Hook the moment Emma swung the flame. Hook dropped to the ground, motionless, and the shadow whizzed away.

 _"Killian."_

Emma raced to Hook's side. The pirates just stood around him, _staring._ She pushed them aside and fell to her knees beside him. He was cold, so frighteningly cold, as if the life had been sucked out of him. His lips had gone purple, his skin almost transparent. _He couldn't die. He couldn't die._ He couldn't leave her here like this. Not now, not here. She needed him now. She needed him in the _future._

"Hook!" she shouted, panicked. "Killian! Wake up."

She looked up, only briefly, and was surprised to see the pirates still just standing there. She shouted at them, to do something, _anything._ Their eyes all held the same unmistakable truth: it was time to give up, but she couldn't. Choking back a sob, she placed her hands on his chest and began to press.

 _One. Two. Three. Four…._

He laid there with his eyes bruised and swollen, his hair was wet and matted to his face, and his skin was impossibly cold. So cold, so pale…

 _Ten. Eleven. Twelve…_

Her mind filled with all the memories they shared. The beanstalk. The fight with Cora. The hospital. Neverland. She told herself she was doing this for her, for their future and not to screw it up, but she was kidding herself. She swallowed her sorrows. She thought of every smirk, laugh, tease, and chocked back another sob.

She couldn't lose him. She just couldn't.

Every second counted. Every breath she blew into him had a purpose. If she stopped now, then he would be dead and she would have to die with him. She was already on the third round of compressions when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Sweetheart…he's gone," a distant voice spoke. Doyle.

That's when she felt it. Like a truck hitting her straight on, taking her down. She could no longer suppress her sobs of anguish. The sound that escaped her throat was unlike anything she had heard before. The tears grappled her face and the others could only watch as she continued her compressions.

"Killian," she sobbed, losing it completely. "Wake up…" Emma swallowed the lump in her throat, she pounded on his chest, forcing air into his lungs. "Hook, damn it, that's an order. I need you. Come on, Killian. Come on, wake up… wake up..."

"Sweetheart…" Doyle tried again.

 _"No,"_ she snapped, turning to him. "He wouldn't give up on any of us. I'm not giving up on him."

With determination in her eyes and in her heart, she resumed CPR once more. This time when Emma blew air into his lungs, a soft white glow began to radiate between them. It grew brightly, almost blindingly, and the pirates behind her had to shield their eyes. Just like it had with the mermaids, something like a shockwave pulsated out of her and across the forest floor, before plunging the night into complete darkness.

Hook jerked beneath her and she did the only thing she could think of; she brought a heavy fist down on his chest and this time, Hook jolted to life. Emma cried out in relief when she saw his blue eyes reflecting back at her.

"Swan?"

He was staring at her, no gaping at her with this intense look in his eyes. Very gently he used his good hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She gave him a tear-filled smile.

"Well, I'll be damn," a voice came from behind.

The moment shattered and Emma pulled away. Doyle stood there, mouth hanging open, staring not at them, but out and over the cliff. Emma followed Lester's hand, which was held out in front of him, aimed at the tiny yellow glow over the ocean. The flame slowly grew brighter and larger as it rose into the sky.

Emma gasped.

The sun had just risen over Neverland.

-x-

The pirates were rowdy and rightfully so. They fought away Pan's shadow and brought back more treasures than she thought they could even carry. Gems, food and other luxuries sat in barrels around them. Back on the Jolly Roger, they sat around large bonfires and passed around jugs of rum. Their attitude towards her shifted that night, though she very much suspected that it had to do with saving Hook's life. Actually, she suspected it had _everything_ to do with saving his life. Lester had even given her hug. _Lester_! Many of them suspected that she had something to do with the sun rising again, though she very much doubted that. Unlike the rest of the crew, she didn't need explanation for it and she accepted it for what it was.

She welcomed it warmly, admiring it from afar, and let its rays warm her skin. The sun stayed high in the sky for quite some time before descending, turning day into night once more. The crew booed when the stars came out again, but it didn't damper anyone's spirits. To celebrate their good fortunate, they brought their gems and stories back to the ship and built the bonfires high. One of the Pirates, whose name she couldn't recall, played the fiddle around them. Another, had join in, turning an empty barrel into a drum. The music was a pleasant welcoming to the silence that usually hung around the ship. Some of them even got up to dance and Emma laughed when one of them, so drunk, managed to trip over his own feet, taking out three others in the process.

Emma found herself cheering and clapping along with them. Doyle patted her on the back and she gave him a smile as he sat down next to her. She could feel Hook's eyes on her and she found herself meeting his gaze. The storm behind them was enough to make her blush and she only hoped that the darkness did well enough to conceal her rosy cheeks. He hardly spoke two words to her since she brought him back. She'd be lying if she said it didn't bother her.

"Ever think about it?" Doyle asked, breaking her thoughts. He gestured around him and Emma threw back a laugh.

"Becoming a pirate? No. I'm afraid my heart belongs elsewhere."

"Shame. You'd make one hell of one."

"I thought it was bad luck to have a woman on board," she challenged.

Doyle gave her a toothless grin. "Excuses." Then Doyle let out a hearty laugh. "Look who it is! Somebody is havin' a grand ole time."

Baelfire stumbled over to them and gave her a low, dramatic bow. Then he took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. "Milady," Bae slurred. Emma almost scowled him for even drinking in the first place but thought better of it. This was a pirate ship after all, not to mention a completely different time.

Bae slumped down next to her.

God, he reminded her so much of Henry at this age. Neal's kiss seemed to make a lasting impression into her hand. It burned. Never had she been more aware of the tiny green bottle in the back of her pocket. She felt guilty for what she was about to do, but she needed him to forget. It was just so hard because when she looked at this kid, he wasn't Neal at all, he was Bae, and to her, they might as well have been two different people.

Bae launched into some story about dragons and kings and knights. When he wasn't looking, Emma ever so gracefully, sleight of hand, slipped half the potion into his drink. Emma found it ironic that she was using Neal's own pickpocketing tricks against him. Neal had taught her many things when they were on the run. Bae, completely oblivious to her actions, brought the mug to his lips and took one giant gulp.

Bae stopped mid-sentence, the story dying on his lips. For once heart-stopping moment, Emma watched the life fade away from him and she feared that she had just made a terrible mistake.

"Bae?" she asked, fear finding its way into her voice.

Then Neal blinked and the life catapulted back into them. "Woah! Sorry. Zoned out there for a moment." Bae gave her a sheepish smile and then she relaxed. "Where was I? You know what. I don't remember."

Emma bit her lip, praying to God that the potion had worked. Tink had said it would only work once they left Neverland and she trusted the White Fairy. Emma sighed. One down, one more to go, though Emma had an inkling that Hook wouldn't be nearly as easy.

"Let's dance!" Bae said suddenly. He bolted upright, dragging her up with him.

"Woah kid!" She didn't really want to dance. However, the puppy dog look he was giving her was one she couldn't say no to. "It would be my pleasure."

Then suddenly she was dancing around the fire with him and a few others. Some of the crew whistled at her, while others simply clapped along to the beat of the drum.

One of the pirates, drunker than all the rest, took her by the arm. He spun her once and then twice. She lost her balance with the third spin. Emma gritted her teeth, bracing herself for the fall. However, the pain never came. Instead, she found herself engulfed by Hook's arms.

"Easy there love," he whispered his voice low.

His blue eyes flickered to her lips and then back to her eyes. His stare had not lost any of its intensity and she found the color seeping into her cheeks once more. He smelt like the sea. Emma had such a strange desire to run her hands through his hair—something she blamed the rum on. Then it hit her. That was exactly how she would slip Hook the potion. If she got him drunk enough, then he could just blame anything that happened on the rum.

Emma gave him her best drunken smile…or at least, what she thought was her best drunken smile.

"Care to pour the Lady a drink?"

Hook's eyebrows rose in both surprise and amusement.

"Aye."

-x-

They were drunk. Blissfully and beautifully aware and unaware. The rum no longer burned the back of her throat. She had to get him drunk, she told herself. She had to get him drunk enough so he wouldn't see her slip the potion into his drink. She just hadn't expected herself to get drunk in the process.

"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall!" she sang, incredibly off tune.

Emma sat on the floor of his cabin, her back against the door and a bottle of rum in her hand. It had begun to rain—no downpour—which quickly put an end to the celebration. Because she hadn't had an opportunity to slip the potion into his drink quite yet, she suggested they continued drinking in his cabin. How she ended up singing showtunes with him, she could not recall.

"And you just repeat?" Hook asked, a smile on his face. Hook sat in the chair by his desk, studying her every move.

"Yes. All the way to zero."

"That's the maddest thing I ever heard."

Emma laughed at him. A real laugh. She had long stopped pretending to be drunk and embraced the liquor in all its glory. Honestly, she needed—no deserved—a drink (or many). Still, she hadn't forgotten the task at hand. _Ha!_ No pun intended. When she saw him yawn, she knew she needed to do it soon. So she shoved herself off the floor and stumbled along over to him. This time when she fell, she did it on purpose. She landed in his lap and Hook's arms circled almost immediately around her hips. He was dangerously close, lips hovering mere inches from hers. She didn't mind. In fact, she enjoyed it.

Hook pointed his finger at her accusingly. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to get me drunk. That's usually my tactic."

"What's wrong, Captain? Can't hold your rum."

Lord, help her. Where had that line come from? Emma traced her hand over his Hook and just for the hell of it, she flashed him a flirtatious smile.

"Oh I can hold it. Don't worry about that love." To prove it, he took the bottle from her hand and took another swig of it himself. "I am a man of many talents, love," he told her.

Ah. There it was. So two could play this game. She would be lying if she said she wasn't enjoying it. She made no move to get up from his lap, telling herself that this was all part of the plan.

"How'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

He gave her a pointed look, one that screamed _really?_ "Ohhhh you know. Scaring that shadow away, saving my life—again I might add—making the sunrise. Just to name a few. Are you a Godess, Emma?"

Emma busted out laughing. "I'm many things, but I'm no God."

"Whatever you say, love."

She ignored that. "As for the shadow…I'm not quite sure. I just thought of the happiest moment I could think of."

"And what might that be?" he asked gently. He was looking at her again with those intense eyes of his and he had begun to play with the tip of her hair. This was dangerous. They were too close. She was still sitting in his lap, as if sensing her need to flee, he dropped his hand from her hair and placed it firmly on her hip.

Emma looked down. Very softly, she told him, "Henry. When he brought me home."

"Aye. Your lad."

Emma looked down, slightly ashamed. Killian lifted her chin right back up with his hook. "It's okay, Swan. You can tell me."

And she did. She told him about how she got pregnant at a young age and gave him up because she could never be the mother he deserved. She told him how Henry found her ten years later and brought her to a town called Storybrooke. She left out many things, fearing what he might think if he knew she was the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, or that Baelfire was Henry's father. And he didn't need to know those things, at least not yet anyway. One day they would meet again on a beanstalk and then he could know, but for now, she was just Emma Swan with a son named Henry living in a cursed town called Storybrooke.

"So this Storybrooke of yours is cursed?" Hook asked when she was finished.

After a moment of stunned silence, she busted out laughing. She hadn't expected him to be so nonchalant about it and certainly not so amused.

"By an evil queen. I know it's ridiculous."

"Why you made the sunrise in Neverland again, love. I can assure you that I've seen stranger things during my time." He seemed miles away when he added, "I've not seen the sunrise in an awfully longtime."

He glanced back up, smiling softly at her. She was swimming with emotions, ones she couldn't quite make out. When you cared about someone, people always said that nothing in the world matter. But Emma knew that wasn't true at all. When you loved someone, everything seemed to matter a little more. Not that she loved, Killian…. _No._ Because that was absurd, but she couldn't deny her feelings towards him. And looking at him now, somehow, she understood. Relationships were like a tidal wave, not because it swept you off your feet but because it pulled you down and drowned you.

"What is it, love?" he asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

"It's just…You almost died."

"I'm a survivor, love. I'm not going anywhere."

He was playing with the curl of her hair again and she was running her hand over his hook. Emma didn't even realize how close her face was to his until he reached up and traced the outline of her lips with his thumb. Subconsciously, her hand found her way to his hair and she ran her fingers threw it. Hook inhaled sharply, eyes going a little wide. Then he relaxed at her touch, his eyes drifted shut.

"Emma, love," Hook said, his voice coming out low and husky. "What are you doing?"

She ignored him, continuing to run her hand through his hair. Now was her chance. His eyes were closed. She could pour what was left into his mug and he would forget, just like Neal. Hook would never know. However, she couldn't bring herself to do it. When she didn't answer, his eyes shot open.

"Kiss me, Emma," Hook said, breathlessly.

She hesitated but only for a second. Even in her drunken haze, she knew what a terrible idea this was. Despite her brain telling her not too, something she couldn't even begin to explain, pulled her towards him. She found herself unconsciously closing her eyes and when her lips finally met his, he didn't disappoint. His lips were soft and sweet, and tasted unmistakably like rum. Unlike the kiss they had shared in her cell only days ago, this was something else entirely—something that made her forget about the tiny green potion tucked away in her pocket.

She was drunk but she wasn't _that_ drunk. She wanted this. She wanted _him._ So she rocked her hips against his and kissed him fiercely. She wanted to feel him. She wanted to feel how much he needed her like she needed him, as she had always needed him but had never let herself admit. Hook was everything she wasn't. He kept her grounded. He kept her whole and true to herself. _She needed this._

Hook certainly did not disappointment. His hand found its way to her hair and hers fisted at the cuff of his vest, pulling him closer to her still. What started out gentle quickly became urgent. Rough. Passionate. Fierce. She let her hands roam freely, wanting all of him, _needing_ all of him. He was her void, a reminder of home, or so she let herself believe because Emma Swan did not fall in love.

 _This_ Hook wasted no time and she praised him for it. He stood from the chair so suddenly that she had no choice but to wrap her legs around his hips. He carried her across the room until his legs hit the end of the bed. They fell onto it in one swift motion, Hook on top. His hand found the bottom of her tank and she more than gladly helped him tug it over her head. He shamelessly grinded into her leg and she felt just how badly he wanted her. Then his lips found the sweet spot on her neck and she knew she couldn't go back.

 _Onetime thing,_ she told herself and then she could forget. Onetime thing to kill the desire, to kill the need, the lust. They both needed this—to feel alive, to fill the holes in their hearts that had long since been broken. They understood each other.

They undressed in the glow of the moonlight, their clothes fell to the floor in a mad rush. Killian trailed hot kisses down her chest and over her breasts. Her nipples hardened in response as he took one in his teeth. His beard scraped and he teased her skin when he kissed his way slowly down her stomach. When she realized what he planned to do, she grabbed him by the hair and pulled him back to her lips. She couldn't allow _that_ because tonight was just about sex—no strings attached—nothing more. Tonight was just a _onetime thing._

"Emma," he questioned, his voice hoarse.

She answered him with a kiss because if she stopped and truly thought about it, she would have realized the consequences of their actions. He was looking at her with that intense look of his again and she wondered how he could make her feel _so_ much with a single stare. In that moment, her heart felt incredibly heavy. Heavy with hope and possibility. Heavy with regret and love. Heavy with fear. She needed to stop it all. She needed to stop the hunger, this _need._

He terrified her.

He made her feel alive.

Hook braced himself with his arms, hovering over top of her. "Emma," Hook repeat, this time more forcefully. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she whispered, barely bringing the word to life. She wrapped her legs around his hips. Then she took his erection in her hand and guided him into her. He filled her completely, he made her feel whole. She welcomed him in, all of him, and the pleasure rolled off her in waves of ecstasy.

As he rocked his hips against hers, he continued his onslaught of kisses against her neck and her hand tangled into his hair, the other grasped at his back. She groaned and arched from under him. When he bit down on the sensitive spot on her neck, marking her, she cried out his name. He swallowed her cries with a kiss on her lips and then suddenly he was looking at her again with those intense blue eyes of his and she couldn't look away.

As she climaxed, she saw the look in his eyes—a light that had replaced the darkness and brought life back into them. In that moment, she knew that it wasn't just a onetime thing.

-x-

Later that night, Killian found himself wide-awake, though not for the same reasons that usually kept him up at night. Nightmares he was familiar with. Nightmares he at least understood… but this. This was something else entirely. He glanced down at Emma and watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest. They hadn't dressed and she was stilled pressed against him, as he gently ran a hand up and down her spine. He knew he should get some sleep, but he couldn't pull his eyes away from her quite yet. She looked incredibly peaceful, laying there with him, under the glow of the moonlight.

His heart felt incredibly heavy. Heavy with love and hope. Heavy with possibility. And something else as well, something he had not felt since Milah.

Heavy with fear.

She had certainly surprised him and he knew better, that for her, this was just something to kill the desire, to kill the _need._ However, when he had looked into her eyes, he saw something, something like a light switch that had finally been turned on and he knew that it wasn't just a onetime thing.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! Here ya go. It's a long one.**

 **Enjoy**

 **Chapter 10**

Emma thought last night was a onetime thing. However, as she laid next to him, bodies intertwined, she knew that she was kidding herself. She could still feel his lips on hers. She could still taste him on her tongue. She could still feel the way her heart exploded in her chest when he had entered her. Above all, she could remember the way he had looked at her with so much hope and possibility that she wondered how he could look at her with all those emotions in a single gaze. It was supposed to be a onetime thing damn it. A onetime thing to put out the flame. If anything though, it only seemed to ignite it, which was probably how she found herself under him the next morning, moaning his name.

He had his face buried in her neck. Her fingernails scraped at his back. He filled every inch of her, yet she wanted more, she wanted _him._ She lifted her hips up to meet his, thrust for thrusts.

The sun was just beginning to shine and its rays broke through the cabin window, warming her skin. _There wasn't enough time_ , the thought came to her so suddenly that a surge of desperation took ahold of her, and so she clung to him harder, tighter because she knew the moment she let go she would throw back up her walls and shut him out. He must have felt her urgency, that need, or perhaps he knew the moment the sun fully rose, their spell would break and they would have to go back to the way things had been before.

 _Home._

But she couldn't think about that now. All she could think about was her heart pounding in her chest, his labored breath against her ear.

 _"Emma,"_ he moaned her name and that was her undoing. She held him at the base of his neck as she came. Her own moans echoed his, as she wilted into him and he came undone along with her. For a moment, the only noise between them was the sound of their labored breaths. Hook rested his forehead against hers, a gesture so innocent, so intimate, so _honest_ that Emma had to close her eyes to shut him out. She couldn't look at him. It was too much. She was afraid of what she might see reflecting back at her.

Hook broke the silence first. "That was..."

"A onetime thing," Emma cut in before he could say anymore.

"A onetime thing," he repeated, rolling off her. There was a beat of awkward silence, as they both stared up at the ceiling. The sound of the ship bursting to life echoed around them. She wanted to explain herself, but she couldn't seem to bring any words to life. She knew that anything she said right now would be a lie. However, the silence was deafening and seemed to drag on and on.

"Hook?" she asked when she couldn't take it any longer. She hadn't really expected this reaction, or lack thereof one, from him. Emma sat up, wanting to be anywhere else. Killian stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

" _Technically._ It was a twotime thing." Just like that, the tension evaporated. She laughed with relief and fell back into his embrace, which he welcomed with open arms. Then after a moment of silence, he nestled his head against hers and whispered, "I understand, lass."

She rested her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms protectively around her. Things would go back to some sort of normal in a couple hours, or at least, they would try to make it as normal as possible. But normal, they both knew, didn't have to come too quickly, so for just a little while longer, they laid in each other's embrace, and they would lay like that until the sun rose high back into the sky. They did this until there was no choice left but to start their day, until the memories of what had just transpired no longer mattered, until finally, when they pulled apart from each other to change back into their clothes, that they witnessed it first hand—that tiny loss of warmth, that hollow calm, that utter loss.

-x-

The sun was at its highest peak as the Jolly Roger sailed out into the unknown. It was one of those perfect summer days with clear blue skies and the occasionally cool breeze. Hook was at the wheel, Smee at his side. Emma wasn't entirely sure where they were sailing off too, as Hook said it himself that one couldn't simply sail away from Neverland. The ocean seemed to stretch out for miles and miles before them, and as Neverland became more of a distant dot behind her, she was finding it hard to believe that nothing else was out there.

Emma couldn't help but sneak glances at him. Every now and then, she would catch Hook's eye and she would turn away, a blush seeping its way into her cheeks. Baelfire was teaching her how to tie different types of knots at the far end of the ship. She had honestly lost him somewhere between the third or fourth attempt. God, he reminded her so much of Henry with his dark hair and dark eyes.

"He likes you, you know." Bae said this simply. He said this as if he had just told her the sky was blue.

"What?" Emma asked, perplexed. She could feel the heat seeping into her cheeks, knowing all too well that he was talking about Hook.

"The Captain," Bae said with a shrug.

She couldn't help herself. She snuck one more glance at Hook, curious to see what he was doing now. Hook was still at the wheel, talking to Doyle and Smee. Then as if he had a sixth sense, he turned mid-sentence and caught her staring at him. She quickly looked away, going three shades brighter, which earned her a smug smirk in the process. Cursing herself, she directed her attention back at the pile of rope in front of her.

Emma didn't really know what to say to Bae, so she let it be. She very much wished to not have this conversation with Neal's fourteen-year-old self. Thankfully, Neal's fourteen-year-old self did not have much of an attention span.

"See!? Now you try."

Emma frowned at the intricate knot Bae had managed to tie together. She fumbled with the rope, only managing a sad mess of a knot. Bae chuckled at her lack of ability. He grabbed her rope and slowly made a loop with one end before lacing it through the other. "Like this. See?"

"You make it look so easy."

"It just takes practice. You'll get the hang of it," Bae encouraged her. For the briefest of moments, a memory of Neal teaching her how to pick locks flashed across her mind. She pushed it away, along with the pang in her chest. Emma focused on the ropes before her, attempting three more times before she managed to get something that resembled what Bae had shown her.

"See! You're getting it."

Emma laughed. "What I would give for Netflix right now."

"What?"

"Oh…it's… I don't know. It's from my world," Emma gave up, not really wanting to explain what movies or TV shows or streaming devices were. Emma tossed the rope onto the deck and leaned back, embracing the sun. She hadn't realized how much she had missed it until this moment.

"So…this Storybrooke. Where is it exactly?" Bae asked, peaking up curiously at her.

"You wouldn't have heard of it. It's a land without magic—what?"

The smile lighting his face was enough to tell her otherwise. She was beginning to wonder how much Neal had simply neglected to tell her. A lot, she was beginning to realize. "So you have been there I take it?"

"Yes. My family lives in London."

"London? Really?" Emma asked, not even bothering to hide her disbelief.

"Well… they aren't exactly my real family…." Bae trailed off, clearly struggling with the right words. "Sometimes your real family isn't the one you were born into. You know?"

Emma nodded, though she had to admit she was curious. In all the time she spent with Neal, he had never once mentioned a family that had taken him in. In fact, he hardly mentioned ever having a family at all. But wasn't that what attracted her to him in the first place? She and him had a mutual understanding. Their parents had abandoned both of them as children and she had taken comfort in knowing that. They were lost souls. Lost children if you willed. How fitting that they both ended up in Neverland together.

"Of course."

"When my father died, the Darlings took me in."

If he hadn't just said what she thought he said, then she would have been much more offended that he had just lied about his dad. However, of all the families he could have mentioned, it just had to be _Darling._

"Wait. Darling? As in _Wendy_ Darling?"

Bae's brows shot together. "You know Wendy?"

Emma hesitated. It really shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did. "Sorta…" Then more as an afterthought, "It's a long story."

Bae accepted her answer with a shrug. "They were some of the nicest people I have ever met. I only wish I could have stayed longer. I think I would have been happy there."

Memories of them seemed to hit her all once. Living on the road in that silly yellow bug. Robbing convenience store after convenience store. Breaking into the carnival…her swan necklace. They had been happy together. In many ways, Neal had been the first family she had ever truly had. She only wished she could go back and tell her eighteen-year-old self that Neal hadn't willingly thrown her in jail and that he never would have if he would have known she was pregnant. She only wished she could tell herself that everything would be okay.

In the very least, she owed Neal that. "Ne—Bae… I understand. I grew up as an orphan too. It took me a long time to find my family."

"But you found them now?"

A small smile played at her lips. "I did. I found my Tallahassee."

"Tallahassee?" Bae questioned. "Where is that?"

"It's not exactly a place," Emma told him, thinking mostly of Henry and her parents. "It's more of an idea."

"Then I hope one day I will find my Tallahassee."

Emma gave him a weak smile. "You will. I promise."

-x-

By late afternoon, Emma was growing restless. Avoiding Hook was becoming much more difficult and a part of her wondered if he had chosen to sail far away from shore so she couldn't jump off and swim back—not that she would. It was more of a passing thought. Hook had set anchor a little while ago in the middle of damn nowhere. Not to mention, she was starving, but she knew the others—Hook including—were eating somewhere down below deck. She knew he'd want to talk and she didn't particularly want to have a conversation about their night together with the rest of the crew nearby. So she remained stubbornly above deck. Even when Bae asked her if she was hungry, she simply said no. If she had to wait for Hook to finish eating, then so be it.

Waiting though seemed to stretch out before her, and as the sun moved across the sky, she realized that Hook didn't plan on coming up anytime soon. She cursed him, knowing exactly that he was waiting her out. But Emma was stronger and more stubborn than that, so she pushed the growing pain in her stomach to the back of her mind. She was no stranger to hunger. Growing up, she had been sent to bed many times without a meal. She knew how to pass time, to make the mind forget. She decided to walk the perimeter of the ship.

Twice.

In both directions.

On the fourth lap, she came to a stop at the center of the ship and craned her neck up high. The crow's nest sat far above deck, swaying slightly in the wind. Emma gave the ropes a gentle tug, wondering if they would hold her weight. She had seen them hold the weight of men three times her size. Surely, it would hold her just fine. A weight seemed to lift off her shoulders the moment her foot left the deck. The higher she climbed, the lighter she felt. There was something incredibly freeing about defying gravity and watching the world disappear from under her.

She was about half way up when she heard a voice from not too far behind her.

"Going for a climb, Swan?"

Emma glanced down at Hook, who was no more than a couple yards below her. She wondered where he had come from and who had ratted her out. He had one foot on a rung of the rope ladder, his good hand stretched out above him to pull himself up. Emma clutched at the ladder a little tighter, not expecting the deck to be so far below. Unlike the beanstalk, they didn't have any magical handcuffs to keep from falling.

"I thought I would like a change of scenery," she told him, focusing much too intently on the ropes above her.

"I'm rather enjoying the view from right here," he said with a cheeky grin.

She rolled her eyes at that. "Proud of that line?"

"Quite so."

By the time they reach the crow's nest, Emma almost felt dizzy. It was no more than a large circle with a dinky railing that she doubted would keep her from falling right over the edge if she put any pressure on it. She sat on the floorboards, swinging her feet out over the edge. A moment later, Hook was doing the same. The crow's nest was much too small for two people to sit comfortably without touching. She kept her hands firmly wrapped around the bar next to her. Hook had his good arm causally strung out over it. Clearly, heights did not bother him.

"This is the most peaceful spot on the ship," Hook admitted, staring out into the distance. "I've come up here many times when I simply needed to think."

The ocean seemed to stretch out before them without end. Behind them, Neverland was no more than a green speck in the distance. Hook had told her so many horrors of Neverland; however, he had forgotten to tell her how beautiful it could be. In the daylight it seemed something like a dream. The logistics of everything were off. The sun was too bright, the grass was too green, the water was too blue. To put it simply, it was breathtakingly perfect—a mirage of sorts, for when the sun went down, she could see what was really there: a nightmare.

"Are you avoiding me?" he asked her suddenly, cutting straight to the point.

Emma fidgeted next to him, regretting having come up here in the first place. "I'm not avoiding you," she mumbled, words failing her, because she had been doing exactly that.

"You are a terrible liar." Then he reached inside his coat and pulled out an apple. He tossed it up in the air before catching it causally with his hand. He was teasing her, she knew. He had been waiting for her to come grab something to eat. He gave it one last toss before handing it over to her. "You need to eat something."

"I'm fine," she told him, taking the apple from him anyway. She bit into it, humming in content. "Thank you," she told him honestly. "I'm not avoiding you. I'm just dealing with…stuff."

"There's always stuff to worry about, love. Perhaps you should consider living a life during them, otherwise you might miss it." She chose to ignore that, but damn him, he refused to let the matter drop. "Emma… we should talk. You can't just keep avoiding me."

Emma closed her eyes, wishing anything that she hadn't climbed up here with no way out. Up there, there was no escape from the storm in his eyes, the truth in his words, the love in his heart. Hook cared about her. There was no questioning that. She had been waiting her whole life for people to stop disappointing her. Still, a part of her wished that she could detect some sort of lie in his words, and yet she found none. He terrified her.

"Emma," he said her name again.

Like he knew her. Like he _cared._

"Do you regret it?" he asked her.

"What? No!" Emma told him quickly. And she really didn't. She hadn't had a night (or morning) like that in a very long time. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Why? Do you?"

"Not at all, lass… but we had been drinking."

"We weren't that drunk. We were tipsy," she corrected.

"Tipsy," he echoed. Then more seriously, he asked her, "What are you afraid of Emma."

"I'm not afraid."

"No. That's not true. You're afraid our little shindig will mess up this future of yours. Is that correct, lass?"

She couldn't ignore the truth to herself, that deep down a part of her wanted to stay here forever, caught in a state of limbo, between two clashing realms. And if it wasn't for Henry, she wouldn't have even minded. She would have been content with the trade-off. In many ways, Neverland was the heaven she didn't believe in and she rejoiced in it. It frightened her how quickly she was willing to live out a fantasy rather than face reality because she would be lying to herself if she said she didn't wish for more nights like yesterday. More nights with _him._

She wasn't afraid of so much messing up the future anymore, she was afraid of her future. Afraid of all the things that could and what couldn't be.

Hook mistook her silence for something else. "Tell me this Swan. How can what transpired between us last night be any more realm-shattering than you simply being here. It's not like we can forget this."

Emma swallowed the lump in her throat. "Actually. That's not entirely true."

Hook narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you mean exactly?"

"The White Fairy does have a way."

"She found a way to send you back?"

Emma shook her head. "No. This is a way to set things back on track." When she told him this, she hadn't expected to see such sadness in his eyes.

"Ah. So none of this ever would have happened. We will just forget Neverland?" Hook gestured out around them.

Ah. There was the lie, the slightest hint of disbelief. She caught it in the way his eyes dilated, the slightest tug at the corner of his lip. He was teasing her.

"Something like that." She didn't see the purpose of telling him that _he_ would be the only one doing the forgetting.

"I take it our deal is off then?"

Emma's face fell. She had almost forgotten their parley. He must have seen the look of panic flash across her face because he let out a laugh. It was forced, unnatural, yet still, he laughed. She wasn't ignorant. Her words had hurt him and she wouldn't let herself venture as to why that might be. "Don't you worry, Swan. I wouldn't dare mess up this future of yours. The crocodile can wait."

She gave him a long, hard stare, yet she saw no trace of a lie. But how could that be? He spent _centuries_ wanting nothing more than to kill Rumpelstiltskin. "And you're okay with that?" she asked him in disbelief.

Hook shrugged. "I'll get my revenge one day. You'll see….what?"

"It's just…you _hate_ him in my world. Do you know how many times I've stopped you—" she stopped abruptly, fearing she had said too much.

"Go on, lass."

"It's just. I don't know. You seem more nonchalant about him here than you do in the future."

Hook's jaw twitched and finally she saw the tiniest flaw in his actions. Hook had walls too, he was just so much better at hiding them than her.

"Don't know what to tell you, lass. Perhaps the crocodile manages to piss me off more than he already has sometime down the line."

That wasn't it. "It's Bae," she realized. "Isn't it. That's why you've stopped."

She wondered what happened between them. Not once had Neal ever mentioned another father figure in his life. Hell, he had never even mentioned a hobby that even involved sailing. In fact, from what she gathered, he hated the ocean.

Hook shifted away from her slightly and she knew she had hit the nail in the coffin. She dove it in further. "I didn't know Captain Hook had such a soft side," she teased.

"Oh I don't," he assured her. A familiar look crossed over his face, a hopeful expression she'd sometimes witnessed when she caught him unaware. "Don't change the subject. Look, Swan. I know you feel like you got the weight of the world on your shoulders but at some point, even though we are quite different, you've got to trust me."

"That's what you think this is about? That I don't trust you?"

"Is that not what it's about?" Hook asked, slightly annoyed.

"Of course I trust you," Emma shot back.

"Then what are you afraid of?"

She hated the fact the he could see right through her.

She thought of Storybrooke and Henry. Her parents. Neal. She thought of climbing the beanstalk with Hook. She thought about how much he played a part of getting her back home, if not more so, than he did now. And what if Hook never found them, what then? The tiniest of events had the capacity to alter and change the course of an entire world. She envisioned this chain reaction, of events and all the possibilities colliding into one another. She couldn't risk the chance of losing Henry.

Not again.

"Hook—Killian," she said a little more desperately. "You don't understand. You _have_ to find me in the future. If we never meet…"

Hook brought his hand up to cup her face, silencing her. His thumb traced gentle circles over her cheek. "Of course I will find you, Swan. I will always find you."

She nearly choked on his words. He meant them, she could tell. He put his hand and hook on either side of her face and suddenly it was just them. In that moment, nothing in the world seemed to matter. Surprising even herself, she leaned into him. She was so close she could feel his breath on her lips. A ghost of a smile graced across his features. Her eyes flickered up to his for an answer when she saw them dilate back, shifting on something behind her.

Just like that, the moment was lost.

"What is it?" she asked pulling away.

She turned to see what he had suddenly become so fixated on. If she squinted, she could just barely make out a tiny black dot over the horizon—a dot that hadn't been there just a short while ago. Hook stood up so fast she thought the wind was going to knock him right over the edge. Whatever it was, it was moving fast and heading straight their way. When finally it clicked.

"Is that…?"

"A ship," Hook finished for her. "Aye."

-x-

Killian grasped at his spyglass, his knuckles turning white. Only when his eyes traveled to the black sails, did he let himself come to acknowledge that nothing good would come of this. The way he saw it, they had two options. They could stay put or run. The latter suggested they had something to hide. Staying, he ran the risk of losing what he wanted most.

"What's the bloody hell Blackbeard doing here?" Killian cursed.

"Blackbeard?" Emma groaned. "Really? Can't we ever catch a break?"

"If he's on the island that can't mean anything good," Smee jumped in, nervously. "Captain. You don't think he made a deal with you know who, do you?"

Killian shot Emma a nervous look, swallowing the lump in his throat. Actually, that was the first thing that came to mind. He had crossed paths with Blackbeard once or twice over the years. It didn't take long for Killian to despise the fellow. All the rumors, the stories, the whispers about Blackbeard had all been true. Even as a pirate himself, Killian couldn't begin to understand half the acts Blackbeard had committed. At least, he had a code, something he doubted Blackbeard even acknowledged or followed.

Emma was standing behind him, peering out at the black dot on the horizon. Her hair was blowing in the wind, and she showed no ounce of fear. She was beautiful. Inside and out. For a brief moment, all the terrible thoughts of what Blackbeard could and would do to her flashed across his mind.

"We need to hide you." He took her not so gently by the hand and began to drag her towards the stairs. "You know the book case in my cabin? The lamp on the wall will open a door."

Much to his dismay, Emma pulled out of his grip. "Hook! Calm down. I can take care of myself."

" _I know that, lass,"_ Killian snapped at her. Her eyes went wide at his tone, but he had to get his point across. Even if Blackbeard hadn't made a deal with Pan, Hook feared what would happen the moment Blackbeard laid eyes on her. After everything they've been through, he would not let Blackbeard have his way with her. He would go to his grave before he let that happen. When she wouldn't move, he grabbed her by the shoulders. She froze. "Emma! Do you have _any_ idea what he will do to you if he finds you?"

Emma raised an eyebrow, and he could tell he had her full, undivided attention now. He didn't wait for a response. They didn't have time.

"Baelfire!" He shouted and in an instant, the young lad was by his side. "Go to the stowaway and take Emma with you. You remember where that is?" Baelfire nodded, glancing nervously at the approaching black sails. "Has he come for me? Is he taking me to Pan?"

"I'm sure it's nothing, but we aren't going to take any chances. Take Emma." He gave the lad a gentle shove in the right direction. Baelfire took Emma by the hand, pulling her towards the ladder.

"Hook," Emma protested over her shoulder.

" _Go!"_

Killian knew that Emma, of all people, was the last person to run from a fight, but she must have seen the fear in his eyes and the urgency in his voice because she gave him the tiniest of nods. He let out a sigh of relief and he watched as the two of them stumbled down the ladder to his cabin.

He turned back to the rest of his crew. "So help me. If any of you even _mention_ her, I will have your head on a spike."

Perhaps he was no better than Blackbeard after all.

It didn't take Blackbeard and his crew long to dock. The ship came to a halt just close enough so that they could make a bridge between the two ships. Hook not so patiently waited by the railing. He noted the holes in Blackbeard's sails, the missing pieces of wood, the scoffed up sides. Blackbeard certainly seemed to be in need of a new ship. Hook wondered if that was the reason for this meet and greet. Perhaps, Blackbeard came to seek out the Jolly.

"Captain Hook," Blackbeard said, as he and his motley crew stepped much too casually onto his ship.

"Ah. Blackbeard. Long time no see. What brings you to Neverland?"

Blackbeard strolled around the deck, occasionally cocking his head around. He was looking for something—or someone—no doubt. Only when Blackbeard couldn't seem to find what he was looking for did Blackbeard look him straight in the eye. They were so black Killian could hardly make out the pupil from the iris. _Ah._ So now he had his full, undivided attention.

"I believe you have something that belongs to me," was all Blackbeard said.

"Care to elaborate? I'm not particularly in the mood for games." Killian couldn't help himself. He smirked.

"I think you know exactly whom I seek?" Blackbeard scoffed.

So he had come for Emma after all, or perhaps Bae. Either way, Blackbeard had been talking to Pan. Hook leaned causally against the side of the railing. He had always been good at charades, even if his heart was pounding in his ears, making it difficult to think. Just for show, he glanced around at his crew, pretending to search someone out of the crowd.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Don't test me, Hook. We outnumber you."

While that was true, Hook doubted they would lose in a fight. His men were good at fighting. He had taught them well, yet with that said, he didn't particular care to lose any of them at the moment. Blackbeard's crew jeered behind him and he could see his own crew growing more anxious by the minute. There would be a bloodbath out of sheer stupidity if he didn't get Blackbeard and his crew off his ship soon.

Hook flashed Blackbeard a smile anyway. "I've always enjoyed a challenge."

"Where is the girl?" Blackbeard snapped.

Hook thought about it for a moment, feigned confusion. "Ah. I see you've been talking to Pan. Doing his dirty work for him now? How is the wretched child by the way? We didn't particularly end on the best of terms the last time we met."

Blackbeard had his sword out and against Hook's neck before his crew could even react. Killian's mouth hardened into a thin line. He had expected this. He waved his men down. "I'm afraid you're too late, mate. The girl left. Told me I was taking too long to send her back."

"You expect me to believe this?"

Hook shrugged. "Wenches. They really are the worst. Can't live with them. Can't live without—"

Blackbeard cut him off with a scoff. "Then you wouldn't care if we took a look around." It was a statement, not a question.

"Of course not," Hook said, taking the opportunity to step away from the sword at his throat

Smirking, Blackbeard turned back to his crew. "Search the ship. When you find her, bring her straight to me." Then he turned back to Hook with a glint of glee in his eyes. "I'm going to enjoy it."

It took all Killian's strength not to punch the man straight in the face.

-x-

"Like I said. No stowaways. I believe I will be expecting that apology now," Hook said smugly, a little while later.

Blackbeard's crew had been merciless and had thrown over every barrel, every crate they owned. Still, Emma and Bae remained hidden, safe in his cabin.

Blackbeard wasn't having it. "Cutler," he called over his shoulder. A small, sad looking man scurried over to Blackbeard's side. "You searched the Captain's quarters?"

"Aye, Captain," came a meek reply. Hook rolled his eyes. He was growing incredibly impatient.

"You wouldn't mind if I searched it one last time. Would you, Captain?"

Hook's jaw twitched. "After you."

Someone must have tipped him off. Blackbeard hardly even glanced around his cabin. Instead, he waltzed right over to the bookshelf, pacing the length of it. Hook rested his hand on his sword, preparing for a fight. He wouldn't even hesitate to slit the man's throat. Not if it meant keeping Emma safe. So help him, Hook was going to kill whoever ratted them out.

"You know what pirates are good at, Hook?"

Hook's grip tightened on his sword.

"Drinking?" Hook offered.

"Hiding treasure," Blackbeard said with a knowing smirk. He knocked on the wood and the empty compartment echoed out around them. "Does that sound hallow to you?"

Someone definitely ratted them out and Hook vowed to kill the traitor who did it. Blackbeard knew exactly where the trigger was to the compartment. However, just as Blackbeard brought a hand up to open it, he let it fall to the side and just stood there for a moment. Then he turned back to Hook with the most peculiar expression on his face.

"There seems to be no stowaways," Blackbeard said, his voice dull and emotionless. Lost for words, Killian stepped aside, dumbfounded, as Blackbeard left his cabin.

-x-

When Blackbeard's ship was no more than a distant dot on the horizon, Hook raced back to his cabin and threw open the hidden compartment. Emma was incredibly pale, her head hung heavily against Baelfire's shoulder. Baelfire's eyes were wide with fear.

"Captain!" Bae screamed with relief. "Something is wrong. I don't know. She passed out."

Hook wasted no time in pulling Emma from the small space and into his arms. The sudden movement must have startled her, for she awoke with a sharp gasp. "Easy, love. You're okay. Just breathe, love. Just breathe."

Bae stumbled out of the compartment, falling next to them with a loud thud. "Is she okay? I don't know what happened…everything was fine and then…I don't know. It was like… _magic."_ Bae's voice was incredibly unsteady as he admitted this piece of information. Hook had an inkling as to why.

"It's alright lad. She'll be okay. Go fetch some water," was all Hook needed to say and the boy shot for the door.

"What happened?" Emma asked, her voice laced with confusion. "Where's Blackbeard?"

Hook helped her sit up. Emma's hand immediately shot for her head. She massaged her temples, no doubt trying to push away the headache taking hold of her. He'd imagine magic was no easy feat, especially when you had no idea how to use it.

"I think I should be asking you the same question," he said, eyebrows raised.

"I…I don't know. I could sense him," Emma admitted. "He knew where we were and… I don't know."

Hook grinned from ear to ear. "Sounds a lot like magic, love."

Emma squeezed her eyes shut. He was no stranger to inner demons and he wondered why she so desperately shut this part of her out. He watched her withdraw back into herself, watched as she built back up her walls. Then with a sharp intake of breath, she pushed herself away from him.

No.

Not again.

He couldn't leave her. When he lost Milah, he didn't think himself capable of opening up to someone again. But then Emma Swan waltzed right into his life with her blond hair and captivating eyes. She had wits and beauty. She was strong and like him, she too had lived a life full of broken promises and regrets. They understood each other. Like pieces of a puzzle, he just knew that they _fit._ And he couldn't lose her. Not without a fight.

"No," he said sternly. He caught her wrist and pulled her right back to him. "Don't do that. Don't pull away from me."

"Killian," Emma managed. "Please."

" _Why?"_ he shouted at her. He needed to know because the panic that had filled him earlier was nearly all-consuming, and if he was going to jump head first into this, then he needed to know that they were on the same page. "Why do you keep pulling away from me!"

"Because everyone I ever been with has left me," she admitted, forcing back a sob.

He could see how much she wanted to run and if she really wanted to, he would have let her. This had to be her choice and for one dragging moment, he gave her just that. Much to his shock and relief, she stood right there next to him.

"I…I don't want to lose you too," she admitted so softly he hardly heard her.

"Well love. You don't have to worry about me. The thing I'm good at… is surviving."

And then suddenly, the space between them exploded. He captured his lips with hers and his hand came up to thread into her hair. Emma held onto him tight, echoing his desire with her own. It was desperate and needy. It ware real and warm. This was his turning point and there was no going back. His heart kept missing beats and his arms couldn't bring her close enough. Like a compass true north, he was pulled into her. He had kissed before, but it had never burned him alive. He had lust before, but not like this.

They fell backwards and he pulled her in close, and because he was a complete idiot, he dared to let himself believe that everything was going to be okay.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: This chapter is pretty much all fluff before shit hits the fan. Hope you enjoy. Also, I am traveling next week, so the next time I update will be in about two weeks.**

 **Chapter 11**

Emma was losing track of time. Hours suddenly become days and days suddenly became weeks, which turned into months. Every so often it would concern her how relaxed she had become here. This wasn't her home, she knew, yet as the days went by and by, her concern about Storybrooke seemed to dwindle. She worried less and less about _how_ or _if_ she was getting back; instead, at some point down the line, she had simply accepted that she _would_ be getting back, it was just a matter of _when_. And if _when_ was a month from now or hell even a year, this didn't seem to stress her out nearly as much as it probably should have. Time seemed completely irrelevant when you had the option to live forever and everything else stayed still.

In a moment of tipsiness, she had admitted this to Hook, who had given her the most peculiar expression, one she couldn't quite place. When she asked him about it, he told her that Neverland did that. He told her that if she stayed here long enough, her memories and Storybrooke would become no more than a distant dream. She wouldn't forget, not completely, but they would fade with time.

She had brushed it off because she didn't need to add that to her plate, nor did she want to. She had faith that the White Fairy would send her back. And she _had to_ have faith that the White Fairy would send her back because she couldn't stay here forever, even if it was a tempting prospect.

There had been no sign of Blackbeard or Pan since that day, though she knew Hook was worried— _No_ , paranoid. If she did ever venture out above deck, Hook pestered her to stay down and out of sight. Something about Blackbeard or Pan being able to see her and yada yada yada. She told him it was pointless, that if Pan was as smart as he claimed to be, then he knew exactly where she was and it was only a matter of time before the child tried to do something about it. They also had yet to discover who out of Hook's crew had ratted their hiding spot out to Blackbeard. This did not help Hook's state of mind for that matter.

Of course, there were plenty of opportunities for them to... _de-stress._ Or so she told herself. Hook and her. They understood each other. This…thing between them was supposed to be a onetime thing.

The first time had been fast and demanding.

The second time they had slowed down, took their time.

The third time, he had caught her off guard. She had been in a rather abandoned part of the ship, looking for something she now couldn't remember, when he just so happen to "stumble" into her. He took one look at her before claiming her lips with his own. He pushed her back into the corner, behind a few barrels of rum without a single protest from her. She let him push her against the wall and mark her neck. She let him underdress her and let him taste parts of her she had never let a man come close to tasting. And she had enjoyed it, basked in every moment of it. The pleasure rolled off her in waves of ecstasy.

She lost track after that.

For the first time in an incredibly longtime, her heart felt full. Full with so many emotions, she didn't quite know what to make of them. She let them be for now, choosing instead to worry about it when she got home.

 _Home._

No. She hadn't forgotten about Storybrooke or the people she had left there, but in many ways it was beginning to feel almost like a dream. The effects of Neverland were settling in and she could see now how someone could get lost on this island for an eternity without even questioning it. There were times, like now, when her mind would slip. The days began to blur together and in the very least, she didn't _mind_ being stuck here anymore. Hook was more than accommodating and he was honestly a pretty good distraction.

 _It was just sex_ , she told herself. _No strings attached._

Still, every time she thought about that damn green potion she would questioned what the hell she was doing with him. But then he would do something like kiss her neck or give her that wicked smirk of his and all logical thoughts would fly out the window.

"Oh my god," she gasped.

She wasn't sure how he managed to pull these emotions out of her or how he made her go weak at the knees with one ravenous look. Somehow he always left her wanting more. All she knew was that she didn't want him to stop. Like now.

 _Fuck._

He was good. Too good. He pulled away briefly and looked down at her, only to give her a suggestive wink. "Be quiet, love, or someone might hear you. Wouldn't want that now would we?"

He leaned back in and kissed her right on the lips, slow and sensual. Emma melted between him and the wall. She could feel him, pressing into her. His lips found her neck again and he trailed soft kisses up it. When he reached her ear, he gently took it in between his teeth, his good hand dipped into the waistband of her jeans. From the position he had put her in, there was little she could do but cling to him and whimper—a reaction uncommon of her, she knew. She ran one hand through his hair, the other at his back.

He continued to his onslaught of his kisses, only pausing every now and then to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. "I don't. Mean to. Upset you. Emma." She gasped as he found a particular sensitive spot. Then he pulled back completely. "But I think we make quite the team."

"Is that so?"

"Aye." He pressed into her again and she arched against him. His hand slipped from the waistband of her jeans and she moaned at the lost contact. "Patience, love." If it had been anyone else, she might have been slightly more concerned about where they were, or that at any moment, a crew member could walk right in on them. She might have been concerned about the jagged wall, digging into her back or the musty smell of wet wood around them.

But she wasn't with someone else.

She was with Hook.

 _Killian._

She wasn't ignorant. She knew she was making a mistake and that whatever this was between them couldn't last. It was supposed to be a _onetime thing_. A onetime thing to kill the desire, to kill the flame. But if anything, it only made it worse because damn it, now they knew, and damn, did it feel good. So good that all logical reasoning seemed to leave her, and when he did stuff like this, she really had no desire to be anywhere else but here—between him and the wall. But as quickly as those thoughts came, also came a blinding rush of guilt. She had hid the green potion under the loose floorboard, right next to Pan's blank map. While she hadn't looked at either for a couple days, the thought of them did serve as a harsh reminder that she couldn't keep up this charade forever. Eventually she would have to tell him.

Hook pulled away slightly, sensing her hesitation. "Everything all right, love?"

Tonight, she decided. She would give him the potion tonight. She would tell him everything.

"Of course," she said, slightly out of breath, cheeks flushed. "What?" She leaned back slightly, not familiar with the look he was giving her.

He lifted his hand to cup her cheek. His thumb drew gentle circles there, sending chills up her spine. "You're beautiful," he breathed out, no trace of a lie.

Fear.

It rushed to the surface. She could see all the emotions and things he wished to tell her swimming in those blue eyes of his. Sensing her need to flee, he kissed her, robbing her of a response and her breath. There was an itch her heart, one she desperately chose to ignore, for she feared what might come tumbling out.

"Emma," he breathed into her neck, raw with emotion just waiting to be let out.

"I know," she answered.

He was slightly surprised at her response, but made no comment on it. "I need you."

 _Fuck._

She shoved off her jeans down over her hips and he gracefully lifted her up against the wall. Her legs locked around him, resting on his hips. He entered her slowly and she gasped as he filled her. She clutched at the back of his neck, the other reached above her, looking for something to grab. As if he knew what she was looking for, Killian drove his hook into the wall and she grabbed onto it. He began to move, slowly. Too slowly, for her liking, only because it made her _feel._ She could feel the emotions tumbling out of him with every thrust, every moan. And damnit, she was losing herself to him. She arched in to him, not daring him to let go.

So for the first time, in God knows how long, she gave in to the desire, she gave in to the flame.

She choked out his name when she came. It didn't take him long to join her and he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

 _"Emma,"_ he moaned.

He lifted his head and captured her lips.

Killian jones was going to be her undoing. She was sure of it.

-x-

"Concentrate, love."

Emma shot him a glare. They had spent the last hour bickering at each other and her frustration for him was only growing. Apparently, their way of destressing could only do so much to quell the nerves. As she sat across from Hook in his version of a dining area, focusing on the stupid candle in front of her, she was fairly confident Hook was losing his mind. And if he didn't stop encouraging her or baiting her with false hope, she was going to lose hers as well.

"You're incorrigible," she snapped at him when she couldn't light the damn thing.

"Pirate, love." When he smirked at her this time, it wasn't that sinful expression she was so familiar with. This one was merciless, fueled by spite and bitterness. "We can't have you pass out every time you bloody well use it."

"I did _not_ pass out," she huffed, to which he gave her a pointed look. "This is useless. I don't even know what I am doing."

"That's why we are practicing."

She shot him another look that could kill. There was no 'we' here. _She_ was practicing and _he_ was being an annoying, arrogant fool about it. She was exhausted, yet determined nonetheless to push her mind pass the point she could physical bear. Mostly, so she could get the hell away from him and his not so encouraging words. It had been his idea to practice magic. Something about Pan and Blackbeard and blahblahblah _Blah!_ She was sick of it. Sick of the Jolly Roger. Sick of his concern for her. Sick of magic. Like Bae, she wanted nothing to do with it. She hadn't asked to be the product of true love or to be a part of some stupid fairytale cursed town.

"Stop denying who you really are, Swan."

If he didn't stop talking she was going to slap him.

" _Hook,_ " she huffed and his eyes narrowed at the use of his moniker instead of his real name. She stood up. "I. am. done."

"Damnit, Swan!" His fist came down so hard on the table that she jumped. She stood frozen, not sure how to react to the sudden emotion coursing through him. She had seen him get angry several times before, seen the darkness seep back into his eyes, but this was something different and none of those times had been directed towards her. Then his eyes went wide at his outburst. "Swan. I'm…I'm sorry," he blurted out. With a forced nod, he gestured to the candle. "Please," he forced out a whisper. "Try again. For me?"

She nodded. Wordlessly, she sat back down. As her anger began to fade, she began to regret her cruel words and the annoyance she had felt moments before. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him struggling with the built up anger, the words he wished to say and couldn't say. He resembled something more of a kicked puppy right then. He wanted her to light the flame so badly, for reasons she couldn't quite figure out. All the time she had known Hook, he rarely asked much of her. He was _always_ putting her needs before his own.

She let out a heavy sigh. She could do this. If not for herself, then for him. So she honed in on the candle, willing everything for it to burst into flame. She thought of Henry and Storybrooke, of all the happy memories she could sum up. Her thoughts drifted to Hook and she could see him clearly. His smirk. His blue eyes. The way he said her name, safe inside his mouth. With those thoughts, something ignited within her. She could _feel_ it.

The magic was a part of her the same way she needed air to breathe or water to survive. It ran through her veins, just under the surface. It pulsed with every heartbeat, every touch. And yet, all those happy thoughts swimming inside her head were too much. The moment she grasped onto it, it slipped from her fingers and she lost that rush of happiness, only to be replaced with a hollowness she couldn't explain.

"I…can't." When his face fell, she hadn't expected to be slapped with such disappointment. "I just don't know how."

"It's okay, love. I know it's exhausting."

And it was exhausting—at least, when she actually managed it. When she had scared away the mermaids, brought him back to life, or made Blackbeard forget, it had felt like the life had been sucked out of her.

"I'm sorry," she said, though she honestly wasn't sure what she was even apologizing for.

"It's alright, love. We can try again tomorrow." He gave her a sad, forced smile before standing up.

"Killian," she said. When he wouldn't meet her gaze, she reached out across the table and took her hand in his. "What's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong, lass."

Her lie detector blared inside her head. "Have I ever told you I'm good at knowing when people are lying to me? It's my superpower."

Killian let out a chuckle at that. "Superpower you say?"

"What's wrong?"

He hardly even glanced at her as he moved away from the table and towards the door. "I think you are right. We are done for today."

His rejection shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. She shot up after him and managed to catch his arm, stopping him in his place. She rested her head on his shoulder and brought her arms around him, pulling him in close.

"Killian," she hummed, doing her best to help him forget his inner turmoil.

He sighed. "We haven't seen Pan or Blackbeard in days."

"Shouldn't this be a good thing?"

"They are planning something, Emma. I can feel it."

Emma shrugged. "I am sure they are but so are we."

"How can you be so calm about this?"

Finally, he turned around to face her. He kept her close. She glanced up at him, chin resting on his chest now. "And why are you not?"

"Why?" He chuckled as if the answer was obvious. "Can't you see, Emma? I can't lose you."

His ability to make her forget the basic concept of speech was quite remarkable. So this wasn't about her defeating Blackbeard or Pan at all—not really. He was tracing gentle circles with his thumb over her cheek, staring at her now with those intense blue eyes of his.

"You're not the only one with walls, love," he whispered when she had yet to answer him.

"Killian. I'm not…" _Going anywhere?_ But that would have been a lie because eventually she would have to leave him. "I'll be fine," she settled with eventually. "Is that what this is all about? Protecting myself with magic."

Killian swallowed the lump in his throat. "The things they've done, Emma. I can't bear the thought of anything happening to you." He nearly choked on his words.

She answered him the only way she knew how: with a kiss. It was gentle and sweet, and he tasted like heaven on her lips.

"Emma," he whispered, breaking apart only to lean his forehead against hers. A smile was playing at the corner of his lips. "Look."

Emma glanced around, surprised to find that every candle—not just the one they had been practicing with—in the cabin was lit. Her eyes flickered back to his. "I don't know how I did that."

"From what I gather, love, magic comes from emotions."

She thought about it. The times she had used it, someone had been in danger. When Cora tried to take her heart, she had been protecting her mother. With the mermaids, it had come to her when they were about to drown. She had brought Hook back to life when the shadow nearly sucked away his soul. When Blackbeard had almost found them, she had made him forget. Those times had all been brought on by fear, she realized. Magic came to her then because it _had too,_ because there was no other way out. But that didn't explain why she had managed to make the flame light now. She was not in danger, after all.

She glanced back at him then back at the candles lighting the cabin.

This was a different fear she realized.

In the space between them, she could feel it. Like a current, it swarmed between them. Very gently, she reached her hand up and laid it over his heart. "I can feel it," she whispered. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, every candle had gone out. She concentrated, focusing on the energy buzzing between them. The flames lit again with a hiss.

 _Love is strength._

The flames grew brighter at the thought.

He smirked at her. "I think you're getting it, love."

She glanced up at him, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I can feel it," she repeated, though she meant more than just the magic.

"Then we shouldn't stop practicing. Should we?"

She eyed his lips for all of two seconds before grabbing him by the lapels of his jackets to pull him in for a searing kiss.

Oh, practice they shall.

-x-

A couple nights later, Emma awoke to the pleasant sensation of Hook trailing kisses up her spine. "Mmmm," she sighed in content.

"Emma," he whispered, slowly stirring her from her slumbers of sleep.

"Five more minutes," she mumbled.

Hook chuckled. He hovered over her, continuing his onslaught of kisses. Supporting the majority of his weight with his forearms, he laid himself gently on top of her. Emma's eyes snapped open, realizing that he was fully dressed. She rolled over so she was face to face with him. He gave her a quick peck on the lips. "Goodmorning, love."

Emma glanced out the window. "It sure doesn't look like morning." Emma yawned, eyes drifting back shut. "Why are you up?" she mumbled, her voice still laced with evidence of sleep. Then on second thought, she added, "Why are you _dressed_?"

Hook wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Well that can be easily fixed." He found her neck again, sucking gently. Emma tiredly ran a hand through his hair. She hummed a moan. All too suddenly Hook pulled away.

"How do we meet?" he asked her.

He definitely had her attention now, if he hadn't had it before. His question surprised her, he could tell. She glanced at him, slightly amused. "What?"

"How do we meet?" he repeated. Then for clarity, he added, "In the future."

Emma frowned. She didn't particular like when he brought this up. It only served as a painful reminder that this couldn't last, that this thing between them would have to be put on hold, temporarily, in the very least. But what then? Centuries separated between him and Storybrooke, and she feared what time would do to him when she returned.

"Sorry. I can't tell you that."

"Can't or won't?"

"Killian," she warned.

"How about a hint then?" He nibbled playfully at her ear.

"Don't you want to be surprised?" she murmured.

"I don't like surprises."

"I doubt that."

"Do you trust me, Emma?" he asked her, his voice laced with an emotion she couldn't quite place. She traced her thumb over his cheek, memorizing his features. She trusted him with her life, but could she say the same for the Killian she had left behind in Storybrooke? It boggled her mind because in reality they were the same person, so how was it that she could trust one and not the other?

"Yes. I trust you," she told him softly.

He sensed what she was getting at. "Ah. But not my future-self. If you don't mind me asking, how is that even possible?" He was humoring her, she realized. He could honestly care less about the future because in that moment, they were more than just friends. To Hook, that was all the mattered.

Emma shrugged. "Like I said… we aren't exactly friends."

"You seem to know an awfully lot about me for not being friends."

Emma rolled her eyes at him. "It's complicated."

"And now? Are we just friends?" He was back at her neck again and she did her best to suppress a moan. She failed miserably.

"Yes. Just friends."

"You have an interesting idea of the meaning of friend."

He kissed her slowly and she welcomed every bit of him in. And just as it began to grow more heated, he pulled away, breathing heavily. He had a wild look in his eye, one that made her heart race. "Emma… you've been so worried about messing up the future. If we aren't friends there, I'd imagine this messes things up quite a bit."

She thought about the tiny green bottle she had yet to give him. "Let's not worry about that now. Okay?"

"Okay," Hook accepted her answer without question, knowing that neither of them were ready to accept the reality of their situation quite yet.

"Is that why you woke me? To ask me how we meet?"

He rolled off her. "No, lass. Of course not. I'm a gentleman."

"You weren't a gentleman last night," she shot back, eyebrows raised in amusement.

"Ah yes, well, I believe someone asked for it."

She threw her pillow at him, which he caught against his chest. Then in one quick motion, he tugged the sheet from her body. Emma let out an uncharacteristic shriek as she tried to pull it back. She failed miserably. Hook threw her jeans and shirt at her, which she also failed to catch and they landed in a bundle against her face.

"Now get dressed, love. We mustn't be late."

Emma couldn't even begin to fathom why he'd drag her out of bed, only to bring her to the very place he continuously stressed would kill her. She sat across from him as he rowed them to shore. It was the perfect night. The stars were out and the moons were full and high in the sky. They couldn't have been more than twenty yards from the beach when he stopped paddling.

"Aren't you worried about Blackbeard or Pan?" she questioned.

When he gave no answer, just a pointed look, she rolled her eyes. If she had been running on a few hours more of sleep, she would have stayed stubbornly quiet. However, she was tired and wasn't particularly in the mood for games, so she took his bait.

"Are you going to tell me why you dragged me out of bed?"

Killian gave her a look somewhere between amusement and annoyance. "Patience, Swan."

When he stood up, the rowboat shook from under them. Her hands shot for the side. She wouldn't be forgetting her latest swim with the mermaids anytime soon. He plopped himself down next to her and slung his good arm around her shoulders.

She smiled, despite her best effort not to. She leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. Hook spoke softly and candidly. "Long before Pan arrived, Neverland was quite a peaceful and lovely place…or so I've been told. The fairies watched over this land and its inhabitants. From what I gathered from your realm's stories, it used to be exactly that."

She didn't have trouble believing this, mostly because she _needed_ to believe that her favorite fairytale as a child hadn't been a complete lie. Hook's words shouldn't have filled her with so much hope. She was an adult after all, and fairytales were just that—tales to entertain children. However, a part of her still wanted to believe that Neverland was a place of magic, a place of sanctuary—a safe place in a troubling world. When she was a child, Neverland had been make-believe, but now it was very real and the reality of it was much darker than she wanted to accept.

"Then before you made the sun rise again—"

"I did not make the sun rise again," she cut in.

Hook ignored her. "A night would come in which nobody had to worry about Pan or his devilish ways."

"I'm taking that night is tonight?"

"Aye. See Pan leaves the island once in a blue moon." Hook pointed up at the largest moon and Emma followed his gaze, blinking at the starlight. The moon was indeed blue, so much so that it almost seemed to paint the land in various shades and hues of it. "Doesn't come too often, but when it does, it's much to celebrate."

"And now?"

Hook shrugged. "Guess we will have to see."

"See what?"

"How many times do I have to tell you, love? Patience is key."

She rolled her eyes at him before settling back into his embrace. Killian's arms came to wrap around her. The silence was welcoming. It was just them and the stars. Emma couldn't remember the last time she had felt this content, this relaxed. All that mattered to her was that right now, nothing else in the world mattered, and in that moment, everything was perfect. Emma was just about to doze off when Killian gently shook her back awake.

Emma glanced up at him and he nodded his head to the side. Emma sat up and squinted out into the distance. At first, she saw nothing, but then one tiny bright light caught her eye. Then slowly, more and more began to float out of the forest and onto the ocean's surface. They hovered just above the water, like stars reflecting back in the moonlight.

"Are those lights?"

"Not lights."

She turned back to him, mouth slightly opened. "Fairies?"

"Aye."

One by one, they drifted out over the ocean, until hundreds, if not thousands of tiny lights were glittering around them. They were _dancing,_ she realized. A tune she couldn't recognize filled her thoughts. They were singing she realized, though to her ears, it sounded more like bells. It was breathtakingly beautiful, a moment that she had difficult putting into words.

She glanced back at Hook and suddenly, it was like the fog had lifted. She could see him clearly now—both present and past Hook in one and she wondered why she made herself separate the two. They were, after all, the same person. Then her heart sunk in her chest at the thought. _They were the same person._ She had been kidding herself before, but her world had shifted since arriving in Neverland and suddenly everything looked different. She couldn't deny it anymore. This thing between them…whatever you wanted to call it, was warm and bright. It was _real_ and true and she didn't want to let that go quite yet.

But she had to.

Because she couldn't stay here forever.

"Emma, love. What is wrong?"

She shook her head, refusing to show him any tears. She wanted to tell him everything. The beanstalk. Cora. Greg and Tamara. The potion that would take away his memories. The stupid map Pan had given her. She couldn't bring herself to tell him any of this because she knew the moment she did, the spell that bounded them together would shatter and she couldn't bear the thought of losing him just yet.

"It's…" she trailed off, thinking of something to say. She had always been a terrible liar. "I want to give you something." she settled with eventually because she wasn't ready to tell him the truth. Not yet. It wasn't time. When the White Fairy found a way. That is when she would tell him, she promised herself.

His eyebrows shot up. She could tell he was intrigued, but she also caught his skepticism as well. "And what might that be, love?"

She didn't actually have anything to give, it was more of just a thought. What she really wanted was to give him a Tallahassee but she couldn't do that. Not here. Not when Henry and her parents were back in Storybrooke. Not when centuries separated them.

"Love?"

It came to her like a dream. "A thimble," she said, proudly.

"A thimble? What the bloody hell is a thimble?"

She busted out laughing at his expression. Then softly, she whispered. "You'll see. Close your eyes."

He looked skeptical, but did as she asked. Then she kissed him softly on the lips. He melted into it, kissing her back with utmost care. He smiled against her.

"That's what you call a thimble in your land?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Only in fairytales."

She knew he didn't understand and she knew he would accept her answer anyway, simply, because it was she who had given it. She settled back into his embrace. Suddenly, she realized just how much she would miss him, how much she would truly long to touch and laugh with him again. He held her close under the beams of silver moonlight, as the fairies glowed and danced around them. When he kissed the top of her head, a single tear escaped from the corner of her eye.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Emma was still sleeping in his quarters. They had a particularly late night last night and killian smiled at the memory. Smee was going on and on about something he very well could have cared less about. Something about Bae and the Dark One. Hook was growing impatient. Smee was suggesting that he'd lost sight of his revenge, which was utter nonsense. His plan may have gotten sidetracked, yes, but certainly not forgotten. He would seek it out in due time, but for now he was content, he was _happy._ For the first time in decades he didn't quite feel like he was drowning. So on this morning, he wanted nothing more than to bask in the sun shining down on him and fill himself with memories of Emma and their nights together. For once, he just wanted to pretend that his life was normal.

And Smee here was ruining it for him.

Finally, when he had enough, he turned to the squat, round man, shouting so loud that everyone on the ship turned to stare. "I'm the captain! I give the orders!" Seeing he had everyone's undivided attention, he moved across the ship, making sure his words were heard. "Anyone who disobeys can walk the plank and pray the mermaids take pity on his soul!"

"Face me villain."

Killian leaned back just in the nick of time. He felt the swoosh of the blade against his neck, startled that Bae had every intention to harm him. His crew gave cries of shouts but he held up a hand, silently telling them to stand down. Bae stood in front of him, eyes wide and desperate. For a moment, all he saw was Milah and Hook's heart sunk.

"What's this about Bae?" he asked, dropping his voice.

"I found this," Bae hissed at him, shoving a drawing of Milah into his face. Killian swallowed the lump in his throat. "On your desk…it's my mother. How'd you get it!?"

"Bae," Killian pleaded, lost for words.

"How!?" Bae swung again and Killian ducked

"You're the pirate that killed her!"

This time when Bae swung, Killian blocked it with his hook and sent the sword flying across the deck. Their sword lessons had been going quite well, but Bae was letting his emotions get the best of him and if Killian wasn't careful, he knew he would let his too.

"I didn't kill your mother. We fell in love. We ran off together. Your father lied to you. He was too much of a coward to tell you the truth. He tore her heart out and crushed it in front of me and I've spent every moment since then wanting revenge"

"She abandoned me?"

"Not a single day went past that your mother didn't regret leaving you Baelfire. We talked about going back when you were old enough. Perhaps fate brought us together so I can make good on those plans. We can live the life that Milah wanted for us... As a family."

"No! Stay back! You used me. You wanted to kill my father."

"Yes. I did."

Bae was crying now, which hurt much more than any wound. "You tore apart my family. As if you ripped her heart yourself."

"Bae don't."

"Take me back to my real family. The darkness."

Killian swallowed the lump in his throat. "I can't. It's not possible to leave Neverland. You can stay here under my protection."

"I know how to fend for myself. I want off this ship. _Pirate_."

-x-

Like him, Bae was a survivor. However, Hook knew the perils of Neverland better than most and if Baelfire was so determined to get off this ship, then so be it, but Hook would not assist him in this suicide mission. So that night he handed Bae over to Pan, not out of revenge or spite but because, at the very least, Hook knew Pan would keep Bae alive.

It didn't take Emma long to find out what had happened. To say she was mad was an understatement. She had shoved him so hard that he nearly toppled over the side. Then she was heading for the railing, mumbling something about getting off this bloody ship. He followed after her, hot on her heels. A storm was brewing in his heart. Until that moment, he hadn't been fully aware that a heart was capable of breaking along the very same fault line more than once.

"Emma," he pleaded. "It's of no use. It was Bae's choice. He wanted off the ship."

She refused to meet his gaze. "Was it his choice to go with Pan?"

He hesitated. "Look… just…just come inside and I'll explain."

But she wasn't hearing him. He watched her climb down the ladder and hop into the rowboat. Killian sighed, turning to Doyle. "Go with her and make sure she doesn't go too far inland."

"Aye," Doyle said.

Emma sighed with relief when she saw that Hook hadn't followed her. She didn't particularly have a plan. She only knew that she needed to get off that ship, away from him. The itch in her heart she had been avoiding was beginning to spill out. She needed out. It was only a matter of time before her walls shattered completely. She didn't need any of Hook's crew—himself included—witnessing her mental breakdown. The moment she stepped into the rowboat, everything seemed to hit her all at once. It swept her off her feet, it pinned her down and she choked on a sob.

Neal.

Hook.

It was all too much.

Too much.

She buried her head in her hands, willing away the tears because even alone, she didn't dare let herself cry. The part that troubled her most was that Hook hadn't been lying. He had told her the truth. Bae had left on his own free will, and while she knew Hook had a reason for handing Bae over to Pan, she couldn't let him explain. But wasn't that why people didn't ask questions—out of fear that they'd tell the truth? It would have been easier for her to erase his memories and leave this island if he had just stayed the heartless pirate he pretended to be.

The boat creaked, tearing her from her thoughts. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Doyle awkwardly shuffling himself into the boat before taking a seat across from her.

"Care if I join? I think a little fresh air could do us some good. Why don't I take us to shore?"

She wasn't stupid. Hook had clearly sent him in after her. She nodded, knowing all too well she didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Though, of all the crew, she was thankful he had sent Doyle. She'd miss him the most when she left. In some strange way he was almost like the Grandfather she never had. She appreciated his genuine kindness, and she respected his wisdom and strength. She especially valued his uncanny ability to know the right thing to say and when to say nothing at all.

As Doyle rowed them to shore, she caught Hook's staring her down from deck. She looked away, unable to meet his gaze. _It was too much. It was all too much._

"Don't dwell too much, sweetheart."

Emma didn't have it in her to converse, and Doyle respected her wishes. The time it took to reach the shore was spent in silence.

"Seems we have a visitor," Doyle told her, as they heaved the rowboat out of the waters.

Emma perked up, heart skipping a beat. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw who it was. Tinkerbell was sitting on the shore, running her hands through the sand. Emma plopped down next to her without a word. They sat in silence for an awfully longtime. Emma suspected she and the ex-fairy had a lot more in common than she originally thought. But when you walked the path of abandonment, you slowly began to recognize others who may have walked a similar path. After all, they all held the same look in their eyes.

 _Lost._

"I heard what happened," Tink said sadly. "I am sorry. Bae…he was a good kid. He'll be alright. I'll make sure of it."

"Thank you."

Tink turned her. "How'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"You made the sun rise again. I can feel Pan's power weakening. You're the lost princess from the prophecy. Aren't you?" There was the tinniest hint of awe in her voice.

Emma vaguely remembered Hook telling her about some prophecy when he first brought her onto shore, though she couldn't remember the exact details. That felt like decades ago and perhaps it had been. Perhaps, she had spent centuries on the island and she'd return to some weird futuristic, Marty McFly version of Storybrooke. She didn't care about the prophecy, same way she didn't care if she truly had made the sun rise again. All she cared about now was getting home. Bae's abandonment seemed to snap her out of her haze. She couldn't stay here with Killian, nor could she bring him with her, no matter how much she wanted to.

"Snow White and Prince Charming are my parents," she admitted.

"I spoke to the White Fairy," Tink offered, ignoring her comment altogether. Emma held her breathe, surprised to find herself filling with dread, not hope. "She suspects she found a way to get you back."

Emma swallowed the lump in her throat. "When?"

"Tonight."

Tonight. The word was like a truck hitting her straight on. She glanced back at the ship. Her dispute with Hook suddenly seemed so small in the grand scheme of things. She knew that this day would come, that this thing between them couldn't last forever. When you had the option to live forever, time seemed irrelevant.

"You need to give him the potion, Emma," Tink said.

"How did you know?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"And how is the White Fairy going send me back exactly?" Emma settled with eventually.

"You're not going to like it."

Emma shrugged. She had dealt with worse, she imagined. "What do I have to do?"

"You need to die."

-x-

Emma waited to make her presence known, staying quietly in the shadows, door ajar. Hook stood at his desk, back to the door, staring at a piece of parchment clutched in his hand. There was no need to measure his sorrow, as it was plainly evident, even from a distance. If she would have included the forlorn sound of midnight tears from nightmares, Emma was surprised he hadn't broke down sooner. Her presence troubled him and she knew why. Even so, it didn't surprise her when Hook finally spoke, completely aware that she had been standing there all along.

"It's alright, Emma. You can come in."

Emma approached him cautiously with considerable care. "Are you okay?"

"Aye."

"I told you I'm good at knowing when people are lying to me."

He chuckled at her. "Did you now?"

"Yes," she whispered to him. Then she rested her head on his shoulder. He made no move to hide the parchment, something that surprised her. She wasn't really used to people opening up to her. She accepted it without question and peered over his shoulder to get a closer look. It was a drawing, she realized. A drawing of a beautiful woman with curly dark hair. "Milah," she acknowledged.

"Aye." Hook set the parchment back on his desk. Then he turned and pulled her into his arms. "Bae…he was Milah's son."

Finally, it dawned on her why Bae had left so abruptly. "You never told him?"

Hook sighed. "I'm afraid you'd think less of me if you knew the truth."

"Try me."

"I was going to use him to seek my revenge against the Dark One…but somewhere down the line…"

"You care for him."

Finally, Hook looked up to meet her gaze. She was surprised to find them welled up with tears. "Aye I do." Then he met her gaze once more. "And I think you do too."

Well, she couldn't deny that. Her hand subconsciously found the keychain Neal had given her all those years ago. How could she explain to him that Neal was a part of her in more ways than he would know? How could she explain that she loved Neal but that she wasn't _in love_ with him?

"That's no secret," she told him quietly. She leaned back on his desk, sitting across from him, debating whether or not to ask the one question burning in the back of her mind. She needed to know that Hook didn't hand Bae over to Pan for the sake of his own gain. Yet she was afraid to ask because she was afraid the truth wasn't going to be what she wanted to hear. Emma forced herself to push that thought behind her. "I just don't get it. Why hand him over to the Lost Ones then?"

"Trust me, Emma. It's a far better fate for him that he goes Pan."

She searched his eyes for any sign of a lie. When she found none, she sank with relief. Killian was telling the truth. And now… now it was her turn. _The White Fairy found a way to send me back,_ she wanted to tell him, yet the words would not come. The moment she admitted this, the moment she would lose him. And what then? Would it be possible for her to undo the effects of the potion when she returned to Storybrooke? Would she want to? Returning to the present for her would take minutes at most, and yet Killian had years, decades even, before their paths would cross again. Time was quite cruel in that way, in its ability to turn good men into villains.

"Killian…" Emma began, her voice pained with the truth she had yet to give him.

Hook cut her off. "I have dreams." Emma perked up, listening to him quietly. She was afraid that one misplaced breath would break their spell. They had always understood each other. This, though, she didn't quite know what to make of his anguish. "I dream of Liam dying in my arms. I dream of the Dark One tearing out Milah's heart. I dream of him coming to take Bae away, killing me slowly…I dream," he paused briefly before looking up her. "I dream of the Dark One crushing your heart, just like he did with Milah."

Emma looked away, refusing to let him see the tears in her eyes. "I understand."

Suddenly, he was up, directly in front of her. "No. You don't understand," he snapped at her. "You can't possibly understand. Everyone you ever cared about is back in this Storybrooke of yours, waiting for your return."

The sound of his voice grated on her raw nerves, and when she looked into his eyes, she could see the storm brewing behind them. Very gently, she reached up and brushed her fingertips over his cheek, then down his neck, then back up again to his hair. He leaned into her hand, relishing in the feeling of her skin against his.

"Is that what this is about? That I'm _leaving_ you?" When he didn't answer her, she added, "Need I remind you that _you_ are in Storyebrooke as well?"

He pressed her hand into his cheek, savoring in every bit of her. "Can't you see, Emma?"

"See what?" she asked anyway, despite the fact that she knew.

"I don't want to lose you."

It was amazing how the simplest of statements could send your world spinning. Emma found her eyes drifting back shut, desperately holding back the tears she refused to let fall. One escaped all the same, and Killian brushed it away with his thumb. He rested his forehead against hers, dropping his hand to play with the curl of her hair. Her mind was reeling with all the things she wished to tell him.

"Emma," he breathed out her name.

 _Emma._

Like he cared.

 _Emma._

"Emma," he said again, breaking her from her thoughts.

"I have to get back to my family. You know that, Killian," she began with some hesitation, though she was finding it incredibly difficult to find truth in her own words. "Our deal…"

He cut her off. "How many times have I told you, Swan? I won't be messing up this future of yours. I wouldn't dream of it."

Emma bit her lip before looking at him. "You're an idiot Killian Jones."

"You're beautiful Emma Swan."

Cradling her head between his hook and hand, he leaned down and kissed her. When they kissed, she seemed to ignite a fire in him, bringing up emotions he hadn't felt in a long time. Judging from the looks of it, he had the same effect on her. It didn't take much effort on either of their parts and the kiss grew deeper, hungrier. They were both aware of the little time they had left.

They fell on the bed in one clean swoop and his lips were on hers in an instant. Emma straddled him, pulling him as close as she physically could. When she breathed into him, she hadn't realized she had been drowning. When she touched him, she hadn't known how burning a touch could be. She hadn't known before how someone could leave a permanent scar on your heart, how you could love someone, so much that it almost hurt to breathe. Love wasn't the act of dying for them. No. It was the inability to live _without_ them.

He clung right back, more than understanding of the desperation between them. He peeled off her clothes ,one fabric at time until she was bare. He kissed the tops of her breasts, used his fingers to tweak her nipples, which hardened in response at his touch. She arched into him, digging her hips to meet his most sensitive spot.

"Gods, Emma," he pleaded.

"Killian," she echoed him.

When he pulled away, he stared at her for a long moment, as if to memorize every feature, every imperfection that made her his Swan. He didn't love Emma because she was perfect. In fact, he loved her for all the reasons she wasn't, and the fact that she _wasn't_ perfect made him love her even more. He loved every part of her, imperfections and all. When he couldn't stand the ache in his chest any longer, he pulled her back to him, hungry and desperate for more.

Killian rolled them so he was on top. He propped himself above her with his arms. Then he gave her one more passionate kiss as Emma widened her legs just enough to welcome him in, all of him in. They sighed at the sensation, as he slide into her. His hand trailed down her neck, across her breast and down to her hips to steady himself. He moved slowly at first, wanting to make this last as long as he physically could. Emma wrapped her legs around his hips and locked her ankles upon his lower back. The sudden movement drove him deeper and they both moaned in content.

"Killian," came Emma's voice, low and husky and desperate. " _Please."_

That was enough. He rocked his hips faster, harder, until they were both gasping for breath. She tightened around him and Killian knew she was close. But if this was their last, then he was going to make her remember. He brought his good hand between them to rub his fingers over the most sensitive part of her body. That was all it took. As she tumbled over the edge, Emma grabbed his head down and rasped out his name. He rode out her climax, coming undone along with her.

When it was over, she pillowed her head on his chest and his arms wrapped around her. They sat in silence for an awfully long time until eventually, Emma's voice caught in the back of her throat. It was a sound Killian knew all too well—a sound that people made when they were trying not to cry. He sat up and leaned over her to get a good look at her. Emma's hands shot to her face, refusing to show him her tears and he hated it.

"Emma? What's wrong?" he asked her, prying one hand away from her face.

God, she hated herself, crying like this, because Emma Swan did not cry. She quickly wiped them way, but his hand was against her cheek, wiping away her tears all the same.

"What is it, Emma?"

She was struggling, holding back tears. When she looked at him this time, she knew what she had to do. This wasn't fair to him and never once had been.

"The White Fairy… she found a way to get me home," she admitted.

Killian's heart fell. "When?"

"Tonight."

"Tonight?" he questioned her, doing his best to keep his voice steady, yet failing considerably.

"There's more." Then she showed him the green bottle that would make him forget. She decided long ago that she couldn't do this to him. She couldn't make him forget, for it wasn't her choice to make anymore.

He simply stared at it. "Is that…will that send you back?"

"No. It's supposed to make you forget."

The hurt that flashed across his eyes was all too real. Far worse than any physical damage she could have done. "You…you want me to forget?" He let go of her and pulled away.

"No. That's the problem. I don't want you to forget, but you have to. You have to forget all of this."

He kissed her. He kissed her with more passion than she could ever know. Her heart ached for him, for this moment, but it wasn't meant to be. They couldn't continue like this because she knew all too well that actions came with consequences. She gently pushed him away, only causing him to dive right back in. He was so close to her, forehead resting against her cheek, eyes darting with an intensity, a desperation she hadn't seen from him before.

"Killian. Stop. We have to stop this."

"Why? Why do we have to stop this? Why do I have to forget? Better yet, take me with you."

"You know I can't do that."

"You know this isn't about my revenge anymore," he pleaded with her. He clutched at her, as if she would very well disappear right then and there. "You know that don't you?" She shook her head, snapping her eyes shut. She couldn't look at him. "Emma. Look at me."

"No. Don't say it."

"Why not? Emma Swan, I lo-"

But she never let him finish that sentence. It was no secret that he loved her.

"Because this is going to mess everything up!" she shouted, cutting him off.

"But what if won't. What if this was meant to happen?"

That gave her a pause. When she had first met him he had been cocky and arrogant, but he had also been charming and understanding. Was it possible? Could he have known who she was when she first met him? She thought about what the White Fairy had told her before, that she couldn't have traveled back in time unless it was meant to happen. One memory in particular clawed at her though.

In the enchanted forest, Hook had locked her in the cell. She had pleaded with him, begged him even, yet he had called her dead, dried up, and useless. He had been so harsh with her, so incredibly rude that she couldn't understand why'd he do something like that if he had truly remembered who she was.

No.

It wasn't possible. Hook didn't know her before they met, she was sure of it. If he had, he may not have so desperately struck a deal with Cora to seek out his revenge against Rumpelstiltskin. They might never have met on the beanstalk, which meant they might not have defeated Cora at all. A domino effect, if you will. You couldn't have one without the other. If Hook remembered her, then it would set everything off course. Hell, she could very well run the risk of Henry never having been born. She couldn't let that happen.

She shook her head, fighting back tears. "No. You have to forget this. You have to forget _me_."

"I don't want to take the damn bloody potion. Can't you see, Emma? I don't want to forget."

Then he kissed her again and this time she did not resist. She gave into him and he pushed her back down onto the mattress. The green bottle fell from her grasp beside her and Hook replaced it with his good hand. She squeezed it and he did not let go.

They clutched at each other, each desperate for the other. They were both painfully aware that the time they had left together was running out. When he kissed her, everything around them fell away. He lost himself in that kiss, in her. In that moment, he knew and the space between them exploded.

He loved Emma Swan with all his being.

She was joy and bright and real.

 _He loved her and she was going to leave him._

Suddenly, he was desperate. That raw emotion—one that only came at the perils of love—clawed at his heart. Somehow, he couldn't seem to bring her close enough. Yes. He had loved before, but not like this. And yet when he pulled back, wanting and ready to profess his love for her, he saw the unmistakable truth: She was going to leave him. Not because she wanted to, but because she had to.

"I have to go back. My family, my _son_ , they need me. I can't stay here," she told him.

 _Don't leave me,_ he wanted to scream. How could he ask that of her? To choose him over her son? When you loved someone, you put their needs before your own. When you truly loved someone, you let them go.

He rolled off her, staring up at the ceiling. After incredibly long moment of silence, he took her hand in his. "I know, love. I know." He rolled back to her and picked up the green bottle that laid between them. The magic of what it could do to him left a heavy weight on his heart. "I can't bear the thought of you hating me, Emma." There was so much emotion in his voice, she found a hard time meeting his gaze.

"No. I don't hate you. I've never hated you."

He stared at the green bottle, clutched in his hand. "If I take this… you have to promise me something. Promise you'll find a way to make me remember."

She let a single tear fall. "I promise."

The bottle seemed to weigh a ton in his hand. He tore off his necklace, suddenly heavy with emotion. He couldn't just let her leave here without taking a part of him with her. And if he couldn't _tell_ her that he loved her, then perhaps, she would let him show her. As he expected, her eyes grew wide with panic, and he quickly caught her arm before she could flee from him.

"Calm down, Swan. I'm not proposing." She gave him a pointed look. He took her silence as a go ahead for him to continue. "You know I'm a survivor. This ring is why." He placed it in the palm of her hand. "I've had it for many years. It's the reason I'm alive… or could be. Who knows?" He was rambling now. "We both know I survive in this future of yours. I want to assure that you're in it too." Then because he couldn't help himself, he added, "At the very least, it's a reminder that you've got a piercing-eyed, smoldering pirate waiting for you to wake him from a curse."

She pulled him down for a kiss before he could finish the sentence. When they finally pulled away, he rested his head against hers and cupped her chin with his hand. Then he let his hand fall from her face. He put the necklace over her head. He found it curious that it rested perfectly against her heart. He picked up the bottle, a sickly green he couldn't imagine would taste good at all.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Emma, I'm scared," he admitted.

She clutched at his ring, his heart, afraid to let it go. The wait of his words mirrored her own internal pain. "Me too."

Hook popped off the cap of the bottle. Just as he brought the potion to his lips, the door burst open. Emma scrambled for the sheets, covering herself as quickly as she possibly could. Hook snapped the cap back on the bottle and moved in front Emma, doing his best to cover her from their unwelcoming intruder.

"Bloody hell, Smee! Get. Out!"

Realizing what he had walked in on, Smee grew several shades brighter than his red cap. He snapped his eyes shut but did not make any move to leave. "Oh my…Oh my. I'm sorry, Captain." Smee gave an awkward nod towards Emma. "Milady…I'm deeply sorry. I don't mean to barge in like this."

"GET OUT," Hook shouted.

If their talk hadn't been so sentimental before, Emma would have been in hysterics. Of all the times someone could have walked in on them, it just had to have been then. Killian had been so close to drinking that damn potion. She just hoped he wouldn't back out on his promise now. Hook let out a few colorful words when he realized that Smee was not going anywhere. So he threw his legs over the bed and pulled on his pants. Emma fell back onto the bed, covering her head with her hands.

"I'm sorry, Captain! But it's important!" Smee was stuttering and breathing quite hard, looking rather flustered.

"So help me, Smee, I will throw you off this bloody ship if you—"

Smee scrambled, but Hook was faster and managed to catch him by the scruff of his jacket. It took little effort on Hook's part to drag the small man across the room. Smee caught the door just as Hook was about to throw him out of his cabin, forcing his way back inside.

"It's Bae!" Smee finally shouted.

Hook paused, though he didn't release his hold on him. His eyes were dark, uncaring. "What about Bae?"

"It's the Dark One," Smee stuttered, choking on his own words. "He's here. He's here in Neverland. He's come for Bae."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews guys! Really means a lot. I'm traveling again next weekend, so it may take me a little longer to get another update out after this!**

 **Also, anyone excited for tonight!?**

 **Chapter 13**

Emma's mind was racing.

 _The White Fairy had found a way to get her home._

 _Rumpelstiltskin was in Neverland._

It was all too much. _Too much._ Emma did not know how much time had passed before her or Hook calmed down. Rumpelstiltskin couldn't have been on the island. It was impossible, and yet, somewhere deep within her heart, she knew it was true. If it wasn't Pan then it was Blackbeard. If it wasn't Blackbeard then it just might as well be Rumpelstiltskin because, hell, why not? There was always some villain to defeat, some nightmare to live out. There was never a quiet moment with her and she wondered why she ever thought everything would work out the way she needed it to, because _of course_ Rumpelstiltskin would show up the same night the White Fairy promised to send her home.

"Killian… no. You can't do this," Emma shouted at him, doing her best to catch up to him. He had managed to dress himself much faster than herself and she was struggling to catch up. She was still shrugging on her jacket when she stumbled onto the deck a few moments after him. It was surprisingly cold out, much colder than any other night she had spent aboard the Jolly Roger. She glanced up at the sky, noticing that the clouds were unusually dark and a part of her wondered if this was a forecast of a bad omen yet to come.

"Prepare for shore," Hook shouted to those around him. Then with a smirk and an evil glint in his eye, he said, "We are going to fetch ourselves a crocodile."

Most of his crew gave out a few hoots and hollers, while a few others looked quite scared. She caught Doyle's eye among the crowd, but he just gave her a shrug.

"Killian," Emma said sternly. His eyes flickered to hers for the briefest of moments. She was surprised to find them dark and cold, a reaction she hadn't witnessed from him since she first arrived in Neverland. He was infuriating. Really. "Did you ever think that this might be a trap? That this could be _exactly_ what Pan wants! We can't just go running into Neverland. It's dangerous. What if—"

"You're right," he said, cutting her off, his voice raw with emotion she didn't know what to make of. "It is dangerous and _we_ aren't going anywhere. _I am._ "

"Not that again," she told him flatly, though much to her dismay she saw that he was completely serious. The last time he told her she couldn't go to shore he had been kidding. Now, however, she detected no trace of a lie. Hook meant to leave her on this damn ship.

She was going to kill him.

"Killian, you're kidding right?!"

"Afraid not, love," Hook told her, taking her by the arm before she could pull away from his grasp.

"Let. Go. Of. Me." She shrugged him off her, which only caused him to reach for her again.

"You're staying here," he snapped at her. Then he turned to Lester and said, "Put her in the cell."

"Emma's eyes grew wide. " _What?_ You can't be serious. Killian!" But to her horror and utter frustration, she realized that he was completely serious. She slapped his hand away, only to fall right back into Lester's arms. Lester caught her around the waist and lifted her easily off her feet. Despite her best attempts, she fought to no avail.

"I'm sorry, Milady," Lester said, an apology that almost sounded like he meant it. He had her over his shoulder within seconds.

"Killian!" Emma shouted, at him. "Damnit Killian! You can't do this! KILLIAN!"

After everything, Killian turned his back on her, not even bothering to give her a second look. The feeling of anger came to her in a storm of force and sensation. If she had stayed above deck, she would have seen him close his eyes, desperate to block out her pleas. She would have seen his face crumble, feel the ache in his heart. She would have seen the inner turmoil brewing just beneath the surface. If she had stayed above deck, he would have poured his heart out to her. He would have kissed her until they lost their breath, until she forgave his sins because he loved her in ways he had never loved before.

She would have heard Doyle turn to him and ask, "Captain… Are you sure about this?"

And she would have heard Hook's heartfelt reply, "Aye. I can't let him take her away from me too."

-x-

Emma was going to kill him. The last time she had been this furious was probably when Regina tried to run her out of Storybrooke. There would be no seducing Hook and pickpocketing a key this time. Emma let out a heavy sigh and ran her hands through her hair, desperate to calm her beating heart. She was literally going to kill him. Damn him and his revenge. _Bae would be fine,_ she told herself. If there was one thing she knew about Gold, it would be his love for his son—perhaps his only redeeming quality, but a quality nonetheless and one that made him human.

She had no idea how much time had passed. It seemed like hours since she heard a sound—any sound for that matter. It was unusually quiet. She very much doubted that Hook had taken his entire crew along with him to seek his revenge on Rumpelstiltskin—though on second thought, that was probably exactly, what he did.

Naturally, she did only thing she could do in her situation. She began to pace. She needed to get out and out now. She refused to sit back and do nothing, knowing all too well that Killian would just get himself injured in the process.

"Damnit Killian!"

Emma kicked the bars, putting all her anger and frustration into it. The bars rung out, echoing loudly around her. Nothing. If anything, it only seemed to do more damage to her foot.

"Hey! Anyone up there? I am hungry!" she shouted to no one in particular. She was answered with only silence. Then again, a couple moments later, "I have to use the bathroom!" Still no one answered her pleas and she let out a frustrated sigh, blowing her hair up in the process.

God, she really hated this.

The floorboards creaked above her. If she strained her ears, she was fairly certain she could make out a few whispers here and there coming from somewhere above deck. Either that or she was hearing things, which honestly, wouldn't be the first time. Emma pushed the thoughts of her parents aside before their mirages could give her words of advice. The last thing she needed right now was Mary Margaret telling her to have hope and David telling her that they would always find each other.

The floorboards creaked again, breaking her from her thoughts. The sounds of footsteps echoed towards one end of the ship and then back in the other direction. Well, now she knew Hook didn't take his _entire_ crew to hunt down Rumpelstiltskin. She supposed it could have been Doyle, though she very much doubted that Doyle would ignore her like this.

"I can hear you!" she shouted, trying one more time for the heck of it.

Bored, Emma gave the room a spin. Not only was it quiet, it was quite dark too. The only light that filtered down came from the ladder. She could make out certain things in the dark. Mostly barrels and crates—a room they probably used for storage. Then she saw it. It was small but it was there and it was sticking out between the floorboards a little more than an arm's length away.

A nail.

It wasn't much, but it would do. Judging from the lack of sophistication in this realm's locks, she figured it wouldn't take much to pick it. Emma laid on the ground and reached through the bars as far as her arm could possibly reach. Emma winced in pain, sure that her shoulder would pop from its socket if she reached any further. Just as her fingers closed around the nail, she heard the creak of the ladder directly behind her.

Emma froze.

"Boys. I think we found our prize," an unfamiliar voice snickered, which earned a few haunted laughs.

Emma's hand clasped around the nail just as she pulled her arm back through the bars. Then very slowly, she turned around to face her unwelcomed visitors, surprised to find three pirates she did not recognize blocking her only way out. She studied them, noting the gleam in their eyes and grunge appearance. They were definitely not part of Hook's crew, which could only mean one thing. _Blackbeard._ Though where the Captain in question was, she couldn't be certain. She had to give Blackbeard credit though. Rumpelstiltskin was perhaps the only reason Killian would have left her side and Blackbeard knew it.

Emma's hand clenched just a bit tighter around the nail. Judging by the looks of them, she doubted she'd be able to fight her way out with only a rusty nail. Even if she managed to escape this sorry bunch, she suspected that more of Blackbeard's crew awaited for them above deck. She supposed that explained how unnaturally quiet it had been earlier. Very carefully, she tucked the nail into the waistband of her jeans for safekeeping.

"Where is the Captain?" Emma asked casually, her voice much more confident than she actually felt.

The short, round one with the mole on his nose snickered. "Thought we'd ask you the same question, luv."

She winced at the nickname. He had no right to call her that. It felt wrong, unnatural even for anyone other than Killian to use it.

"Does Hook usually keep his whores locked up like this?" the tall, skinny one added. He had his sword pointed accusingly at her, as if she were a threat even behind bars. She could take him and the fat one, she thought. They didn't seem like much and she suspected, in the very least, she'd be faster than the three of them combined. However, the last one gave her pause. He was much closer to Lester's size and she doubted she'd get very far if it came to a fight.

"Minks," the fat one whispered to the largest of the three, his impatience clearly growing. "Think we should let her out? Have some fun with her, eh?"

"The Captain said not to touch her," the skinny one hissed.

"The Captain ain't here," the one known as Minks snapped.

"But just think how much she'll be worth. She's a _princess."_

Emma rolled her eyes. She was standing right there. She was curious who had spilled her secret. After all, she had only told Tink, though she doubted the fairy would have betrayed her like this. "I'm no princess."

The fat one chuckled. "That's not what Pan said."

She raised an eyebrow at them. "Oh really? And what else did Pan say?"

"Says you're a time traveler and that you'd be worth lots in a few years."

Emma gave them a pointed look. "Did you ever think that Pan could be _lying?"_

Minks smirked, taking a step closer. "For your sake, luv, I'd hope that he ain't." He then gave a curt nod, not once taking his eyes off her. If it was possible to violate someone with a single look, he was capable of just that. She was beginning to find thanks in the bars separating her and the pirates. On the other hand, if Hook had just let her come with him, she wouldn't have been in this predicament.

"I'm afraid Hook took the key with him," she offered, though she honestly had no idea if that were true or not. "Guess you're out of luck."

"Sure about that, luv?" The fat one held up the key, laughing hysterically at her discomfort. "That old fella sure did put up a fight. I think he might fancy you." He paused to glance her up and down. "I can see why."

Her heart dropped in her chest, knowing that this would not end well for Hook's crew if it hadn't already. "What did you do with him?" she egged them on, anything to give her more time to think, to process. How many of Hook's crew stayed behind to watch her? How many of their lives did they risk because they had been so careless?

"Nothing of your concern," the one named Minks said. Then with a sharp nod, he gestured for his companion to open the door.

Emma was quite familiar with her flight or fight response by now. Her ability to handle unusually stressful situations was quite remarkably really. She had learned at a very young age to never let your guard down, to not give up without a fight. She could feel it to. Her magic hummed beneath her skin. It was a part of her now. Like learning to ride a bike, once learned, it couldn't be undone so easily, and she was thankful Hook had forced her to practice.

The moment she heard the click of the lock, she mustered all of her strength, her courage, and gave it all she had. A burst of white light shot out of her hands with such power that it not only catapulted her captors to the floor but her as well. Emma recovered quickly and she stumbled to her feet, trampling out the cell and over them in the process.

She had just reached the ladder when a fiery sensation burned through her temples. By the time she realized what was happening, Minks was looming over her with a sword in his hands. The savage blow had knocked her completely off her feet. Unprepared for the brutal attack, she hit the ground hard. Her ears were ringing, her head was pounding and her vision kept going in out of focus. The only thing that seemed to register in her brain was the warm, sticky flow of blood seeping down her forehead. Still, she forced herself to sit up all the same because damnit, she was a fighter.

"And just where do you think you are going?" Minks snickered, towering over her.

Instinctively, she brought her hands up, prepared to use her magic again when her world flipped upside down. Something tightly snapped around her wrist and her stomach lurched as the most sicken feeling washed over her. Emma's hand shot for the leather cuff, struggling all her might to pull the damn thing off, but it wouldn't budge.

Minks leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Pan told us about your little magic stunt. Only making things fair, luv. Wouldn't you agree?" Then without warning, he knocked her back to the floor, only this time, he put pressure on her chest with his knee.

Emma coughed violently as she felt her rib cage collapsing and the air beginning to leave her lungs. For a moment, her mind blackened and when she finally came to seconds later, she found herself on the floor with Minks on top of her, crushing her. Emma gasped, struggling to breathe, struggling to fight back. He was depriving her lungs from much needed air. His knee lifted just a bit and the air rushed back into her lungs in a blinding rush of pain.

Roughened hands forged a trail from her waist up to her sternum and over her breasts. She closed her eyes, knowing without a doubt what they wished to do to her. She fought the urge to throw up. She wouldn't let that happen _._ Even cuffed, without magic and outwardly defenseless, she refused to go down without a fight. She scratched at his face, leaving a bright red mark in the process. Minks fist came down so fast she hardly had time to process the soreness in her cheek or the smack that echoed out across the room.

Then finally, she felt the cool steel of a knife against her neck and she froze. "There's a good girl," Minks whispered.

Emma swallowed hard. She locked her eyes with her captor, refusing to show him any fear. It was the fat one's knife that pressed into her neck and she shot him a look that could kill. The skinny one, who was huddled in the far corner, didn't seem to want much to do with this.

"Parley," she gasped out.

The smile fell from Minks' face. "What was that?"

"Parley," she said a little louder, a little more confident. Perhaps this was a real thing after all.

Minks forced out a laugh, though she could tell he was annoyed. "Parley? You hear that boys? Parley." Then he turned back to Emma was an evil glint in his eyes. "As the lady wishes."

This time when he brought his fist down, she lost consciousness completely.

-x-

Emma awoke to an excruciating headache and a darkness so dark, it swallowed her whole. She blinked several times in an attempt to clear her sight, but she only saw blackness. To make matters worse she couldn't tell if she was fighting consciousness or drowning in it slowly. She had no idea how much time had passed before she finally came to her senses and she realized that the darkness was due to some sort of cloth covering her head. Emma moved slightly, noting that someone had took the effort to bound her hands. Once she established that fact, her sense of feeling returned in a rush of harsh and unexpected agony.

 _Fear._

It shot through her with every shaky breath, every heartbeat. Whispers filled her ears, the wind gently lapped at her hair and the swaying of a rowboat was almost enough to lure her back to that unconsciousness she so desperately welcomed. She couldn't give up though because Henry needed her. Killian needed her.

 _Killian._

Emma shot straight up and immediately regretted it. Pain surged through her temples. She had a killer headache and her cheek throbbed from where Minks had hit her. She imagined the bruise forming there would not be a pretty sight.

"It's about time. We are almost to shore," a voice she vaguely recognized spoke then.

Then suddenly, someone pulled off the bag that covered her head. Emma blinked back the moonlight, the lightness blinding her temporarily. Eventually her eyes focused on whom she suspected was Blackbeard. After all, she hadn't actually _met_ the pirate, though it wasn't hard to make him out from all the others.

"I don't believe we formally met," Blackbeard introduced himself, though he didn't actually acknowledge his name.

Emma tossed her head over her shoulder to inspect her surroundings. She was sitting uncomfortably on the floor of a small rowboat. There were about six other pirates with them, including Blackbeard and the three pirates that had attacked her on the Jolly Roger. Judging from the moons, which were still high in the sky, and the fact that she could still see the Jolly Roger out in the distance, told her that she hadn't blacked out for very long.

She glanced over the side of the boat, wondering if mermaids would be a better fate than whatever Blackbeard had in store for her.

"Don't mind Minks. He'll behave himself," came Blackbeard's voice again. Then after a moment, Blackbeard added, "There'd be no sense in killing you right now, Miss Swan, so I suggest you relax."

"So," Emma asked much too casually. "Where are we heading?"

Blackbeard let out a deep laugh. "Ah," Blackbeard said, dragging out the syllable longer than necessary. "The lady has a sense of humor."

Blackbeard didn't _look_ all that terrifying. He was heavier than Killian and terribly unattractive. He held an apple in his right hand and a small pocketknife in the other, which she was fairly confident was only for show. Emma wiggled a little on the rowboat floor. The nail was still digging into her back pocket and she nearly sighed with relief. If only her hands weren't bound, so she could reach it.

"Let me guess. Pan sent you," Emma tried again, anything to help her process what the hell was going on.

Everything had happen so fast. It felt like days since Tink told her the White Fairy had found a way to send her home.

 _The White Fairy had a way to send her home._

 _Tonight._

And Killian had still not drank the forget-me potion and she was currently being held hostage by a deranged group of pirates who wanted to ransom her.

Great. Just great.

"Rumpelstiltskin isn't really on the island. Is he?" Emma tried again when Blackbeard chose to ignore her completely.

She found it incredibly difficult to believe that Rumpelstiltskin's visit to Neverland was a coincidence and she desperately tried not to think of what trap Killian may have walked straight into. He was good at surviving, she reminded herself. He had told her himself.

Blackbeard shrugged, clearly uninterested in the whole ordeal. "Whether that is actually true or not is of no concern to me."

"You know, no good has ever come out of making deals with that man."

"A man. Curious, really. I wouldn't call the Dark One a man. A beast perhaps. I can assure you that I made no deal with that beast."

"So you came all the way to Neverland to work for Pan then?"

That earned her a nasty glare from not only Blackbeard, but the rest of the pirates as well. "Coming to Neverland wasn't exactly planned," Blackbeard admitted, though this didn't come as a surprise. She doubted most people came to Neverland willingly. "Pan, though… well let's just say everyone is going to get what they want tonight." Blackbeard stabbed his apple with his pocketknife, a gesture likely meant to scare her. It had no such effect.

"How fitting," she told him dryly.

She knew he was bringing her to Pan, though why go through all this trouble, she didn't have a clue. Perhaps this was all part of one big game. Killian kept telling her how much Pan enjoyed them. They were close to shore now. She wondered how far she could get before someone caught her. She doubted very far at all, especially with her hands bound or without magic. Speaking of which…

Emma glanced down at the leather cuff and wondered how the hell she was going to get this thing off her.

Blackbeard, annoyingly so, seemed to read her mind. "Waste of time. Those cuffs stop you from using magic. I'm afraid someone else will have to take them off you, which won't be happening anytime soon…given our last encounter."

"So you just plan to ransom me?" Emma huffed. "You do realize that my parents may not even have been born yet?"

God. Time travel was confusing.

Blackbeard gave her a shrug, followed by smile made of gold. "Lass, who said anything about ransoming you to your parents?" Then he leaned down and took a handful of her hair in his hands. "I'd imagine we'd get a pretty penny for you."

Emma fell back, away from his reach, only to bump into the pirate sitting on the bench behind her. Blackbeard let out another laugh.

"Do you believe in ghost stories, Miss Swan?" Blackbeard asked, changing the subject completely. At her silence, he said, "No? Well, you better start believing in them. You're in one."

-x-

It didn't take Hook and his crew long to find Pan's camp. In fact, it was almost too easy, too perfectly placed and the closer they got, the more he began to wonder if Emma had been right. Perhaps this had all been some ruse to get him off the ship. He swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing all too well that if he was wrong about this, then he was risking a lot more than his life tonight. He shook the thought from his head. _Emma was safe._ Emma was back on the Jolly Roger with his most trusted member and two others. Doyle would bring no harm to her. He was sure of it.

Like him, Emma was a survivor or in the very least, perhaps she was just lucky—and that was the thing. He couldn't afford to rely on luck or fate this time. Not tonight. Not with Rumpelstiltskin rumored to be roaming around the island. Too many nights he had dreamt of the crocodile crushing not Milah's but Emma's heart into dust. He couldn't…he fought back the lump in his throat. He couldn't let that nightmare become a reality. So he locked her up to keep her safe because he knew his Swan, and he knew that she wouldn't have stayed behind willingly.

Gods, if Rumpelstiltskin was truly on this island looking for Baelfire, then he couldn't risk it. He couldn't lose her. Not like Milah. He wouldn't be able to live with himself because if Emma died, he knew he would die too. After all, you couldn't live for very long with a hole in your heart.

Killian closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

She was safe, he told himself. Emma was safe.

He halted no more than twenty or so feet from Pan and the Lost Boys' makeshift camp. He turned back to the rest of his crew and brought a finger up to his lips. They nodded, answering silently to his unspoken request. They had planned for this day and this day alone. They all knew what was at stake, what this meant to him.

"Please. Don't wait on my behalf." came Pan's loud and obnoxious voice.

Killian rolled his eyes as he stepped out of the shadows and into the clearing. Only Pan stood around the campfire. Killian slowly glanced around, attempting to see through the thick foliage that surrounded them. He wasn't naïve. Pan's Lost Boys were somewhere out there, waiting to make their presence known.

"Ah, I see you've brought guests," Pan said, gesturing to the pirates behind him.

Killian shrugged. "And don't tell me you've come alone?"

Pan feigned innocence. "Oh. Wow. Please forgive me, but I do believe this conversation should just be between you and I. Wouldn't you agree?"

Before Killian could answer, Pan snapped his fingers and a chorus of whistles hissed throughout the night. Then one by one, Killian heard the thud of each member of his crew hitting the ground. Honestly, it didn't surprise him. He had let his need for revenge cloud his judgement. He crouched down slowly and pulled the small dart out of Lester's neck. He sighed with relief when he felt the gentle pulse of a heartbeat beneath his fingers.

"Don't worry. They'll live," Pan told him. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Killian threw the dart to the side and turned to face Pan in all his glory. If the child wished for his company and his alone, then so be it.

"Don't play games with me. Where is he?" Killian snapped, cutting straight to the chase.

"I'm sorry. You're going to have to be a little more specific than that."

Hook was not in the mood for games. "You know bloody well who. Baelfire. Where is he?"

Pan shrugged. "I haven't a clue. I'm afraid he wandered off into the jungle not too long after you betrayed his trust. I haven't seen him since."

"And you don't care?" Hook asked, not believing Pan's lies for a moment.

"He's not the boy I've been looking for."

Hook cocked his head to the side. He always figured Pan had an end game. Then finally, it dawned on him. "You're looking for Emma's son. Aren't you? That's why you've been so interested in her."

Pan let out a long, slow clap. "Ding. Ding! And we have a winner! "

Hook frowned. Bloody hell this child was annoying.

"Speaking of whom… where is your girlfriend this evening?" Pan asked, eyebrows raised in a way that suggested Pan knew exactly where Emma was.

Something about hearing her name on his lips caused him to snap. Killian used all his strength to shove Pan against the tree and place a sword against his neck. Still, it was all too easy, and Pan didn't even put up a fight. For the first time that night, Killian was beginning to think he made a terrible mistake. _How could he be so bloody stupid?_ He almost called out for his crew to abandon the mission and get back to the Jolly Roger as quickly as possible when he remembered that they were knocked out behind him.

"What did you do with her?"

There was an amused glint in his eye when he spoke. "I know things, you know. The moment Emma came to the island, I knew it was her son I was looking for."

"You're mad."

"I offered to help her get back to this Storybrooke of hers and you know how she repaid me? _She chose you._ A one-handed pirate with a drinking problem. _"_

Hook swallowed the lump in his throat, wondering if that was at all true. Emma was smarter than that though, and he knew she wouldn't have considered Pan's offer unless she truly believed he could have sent her home.

Then it occurred to him. Pan couldn't get her home. He didn't know how and that was why he needed Emma.

Hook laughed. "You don't know how. Do you?"

"Ah yes, but you see, a little birdie told me that she has a way home tonight."

"You had no intention of helping her. Not really. Not without a price." Hook pushed the blade into Pan's neck just enough to draw a drop of blood. So the child could die after all. Now it was Hook's turn to smirk.

"Go ahead kill me."

"It'd be my pleasure," Hook sneered.

Just as he pulled back his sword, ready to make his mark, a rustling of trees caught his attention from behind. His head snapped in the direction. Judging from the sound of it, someone—no, a group of _someones_ —was heading directly their way. He turned back to Pan, not at all surprised to find a wicked smile spreading from ear to ear.

"Ah!" Pan said, his voice full of delight. "I believe we have another guest. Come out, come out wherever you are!"

Hook pulled Pan in front of him and pressed the knife into Pan's neck. While he didn't have his crew for backup, at least he could use the child as leverage to buy him more time. He knew that this was Pan's doing, that whoever interrupted their little gathering was all part of this sick, sick game. Hook laughed at his own stupidity. They were all part of Pan's games. Every single one of them. The Lost Boys. Neverland. Even himself. There was no winning here. Not in Neverland.

Then much to his relief and utter horror, _Emma_ stepped out of the foliage. He stood, dumbfounded for a moment, thinking that this had to be a mirage.

 _Emma was back on his ship. Emma was safe._

But the cry that escaped her lips when she saw him was his undoing. He threw Pan to the side without a second thought and ran to her. He would deal with that wretched child another time.

 _"_ _Emma!"_

Emma tripped then and she stumbled to the ground. Instinctively, he opened his arms and he caught her against his chest. She felt like heaven against him and he wrapped his arms protectively around her. It felt like ages since he last held her, so he pulled her in close. But then she roughly pulled away from his grip. He was so focused on Emma just being there that he failed to notice the ropes that bounded her wrists and the bruise beginning to form under her right eye. Only when she started to shake against him, did he realize he never should have left her on that ship. He scrambled to reach out and pull her back. She was the only thing keeping his sanity in place right now.

"Emma. Who did this to you?" he nearly cried. He reached up a shaking hand to cradle her cheek with his hand. She grunted in pain when he gently brushed against the bruise forming there.

"Killian," she practically cried, out of breath, as if she had just run a mile. "Run. You have to get out of here. Blackbeard—"

"Blackbeard? He did this to you?" He pulled back, fear stabbing its way into his heart. He never should have left her.

"That's beside the point. They are coming. Killian!" she screamed, pulling away from him. "You have to get out of here!"

"I would listen to her mate," came Pan's irritating voice from behind them.

Killian ignored him, choosing to focus only on Emma and her alone. Her eyes were pleading with him, but he wouldn't leave her here like this. Not now. Not Here. Not _ever. He couldn't lose her too._ He reached for her hands, desperately and quickly trying to undo the knots the bounded her.

He was able to nick a portion of the rope with his knife when he heard an all too familiar voice. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Hook's eyes snapped up, not at all surprised to find that this was Blackbeard's doing. He was going to kill the man. Then suddenly his world flipped upside down. He didn't have time to react. Blackbeard's crew came quickly out of the shadows and they were upon them before he could process what was happening. Before he could react, one of Blackbeard's crew had a sword at his throat while another two grabbed Emma by the arms and pulled her back to her feet, away from him. There was about six of them in total, not including Pan. He could take them. He was positive about that, but the knife currently pressed against Emma's neck was enough to make him think twice.

His stomach lurched at the sight of them holding her like that. Killian swallowed hard, choosing to focus on all the things he would do to these men when he finally got the chance.

"Let her go."

Blackbeard's crew let out deep laughs. "You're out numbered. Give up."

"No."

"Killian. Run!" Emma shouted at him, which earned her a sharp tug of her hair and her head went flying back.

Killian hadn't felt fear like this in a very, very long time. It settled deep inside his heart and robbed him of his ability to breathe, to think clearly. His breath constricted inside his chest as all the possibilities of what could happen tonight panned out in front of him.

 _He couldn't lose her._

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud, demeaning clap behind him. He whirled around to Pan, wishing desperately that he had killed the child when he had the chance.

"Got to give it to you Captain. I was beginning to think you didn't have a heart after all."

"You don't need her. Let her go. This is between you and me."

"How heroic of you," Pan sneered. "But I'm afraid I do need her. You see, I need to get to this Storybrooke of hers and she's going to help me get there. You on the other hand?" Pan weighed his hands, the left one falling heavily towards the ground. "Well, let's just say I am no longer in need of your assistance anymore." Pan closed the distance between them until they were face to face. His eyes were sparkling with amusement. Killian wanted nothing more than to smack off that stupid smile.

"However, while _I_ have no need for you, I may know of someone who does. You see. You aren't the only one looking for Baelfire tonight. An old friend of mine happened to drop by. What are the odds?" Pan laughed. "He wasn't very happy when he heard that Baelfire is currently missing. I may not have Baelfire, but I did offer him the next best thing. What do you know? _You."_

"Go to hell," Hook spat

"When the night is through, everybody will be getting exactly what they want. I'll be getting her son. Blackbeard will get himself a princess to ransom and Rumpel will have the pleasure of finally ending your life. How does that sound?"

"Over my dead body," Hook snapped.

"Killian! _No!"_ Emma was struggling now to no avail.

"Gladly." Pan took a step back. "How many times do I have to tell you that I _always_ win?" Pan gave him a wicked sneer. "Laddie!" he shouted into the night.

There was a loud crack, followed by a puff of black smoke. Then the ground shook beneath their feet. The crocodile appeared in all his sadistic glory, green, scaly skin and all. He let out a high-pitched squeal at the sight unfolding around him.

"Don't forget out deal, Laddie," Pan said, an edge to his voice.

"No need to worry about me, _Papa_." Then turning back to Hook, Rumpelstiltskin gave his opponent a sadistic grin. "I've been waiting a long time for this."

Before anyone could say anything at all, Rumpelstiltskin snapped his fingers, and him and Killian both disappeared in a puff of black smoke.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Emma stumbled to the ground where Killian had been only a moment before. One second he was there and one second he wasn't.

 _This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening._

Emma wasn't aware that she was screaming until Blackbeard told a member of his crew to shut her up. She felt numb—one of those out of body experiences, as if her emotions had been pulled from her very soul. Her breaths came in short, sharp gasps. She was vaguely aware of Blackbeard's crew throwing her off to the side, like some ragdoll they had grown tired of. She fell unceremoniously to the ground beside Lester who was still knocked out cold. In fact, all of Hook's men were still passed out. At first, she thought they were dead, but then she caught the gentle rise and fall of their chests. She was curious about what sort of poison could have had enough strength to knock out Lester, the largest out of Hook's crew.

"Don't think of going anywhere, luv," the fat pirate said.. He showed her a long piece of rope with a toothless grin. He tied her legs up quickly and securely.

So much for her getaway plan. Because honestly, she would have rather taken an arrow to the back running away than spending a minute more with this sorry bunch.

"Don't fret, luv," he said with a gentle tap on her face. Emma suppressed the urge to gag. She was thankful that Hook's crew actually bathed. "The party is just gettin' started," he said with a laugh.

She hardly heard him. She was still processing, still contemplating on how the hell she was going to get out of this mess and find Hook. It felt like a dream and she found herself in a trance she so desperately wanted to wake up from. As if in her own personal bubble, her thoughts echoed loudly inside her head; everything else around her seemed muffled.

 _Rumpelstiltskin was in Neverland. Rumpelstiltskin took Killian._

The rustling of leaves broke through her thoughts and her bubble popped. She came back to reality in a rush of dread and alarm.

Her head snapped in the direction and found the Lost Boys slowly coming out of the forest. She learned a long time ago that absolute quiet was a myth. There was always something there, always something waiting to make its presence known. Blackbeard was clever, but Pan was better. She had to give him credit, knowing that he had definitely won whatever game they had been playing tonight.

The Lost Boys joined Pan and Blackbeard's crew. She was too far away to catch what they were saying, but she did catch a few laughs here and there. Much to her dismay, she realized that they were _celebrating._

To say she was in a state of panic and shock was an understatement. Her mind was reeling. _The White Fairy had a way to send her home. Rumpelstiltskin took Hook._ She couldn't handle it. It was all too much, too much. All these thoughts, emotions were crushing her and she found it difficult to breathe. But here was the thing, despite her parents saying otherwise, some stories, no matter how much she wished for it, just didn't have a happy ending.

That was when she felt it.

Someone was tapping her ankle. Her eyebrows shot up when she found Lester's eyes were wide open and staring directly at her. She glanced back at Blackbeard's crew who was huddle off to the side, listening to whatever Pan was going on and on about. She realized that all of Hook's crew, one by one, was beginning to wake up. Lester, still on the ground, brought a finger up to his lips, gesturing for all of them to remain silent. They nodded back at each other, their eyes speaking for themselves .

 _Perhaps she still had a chance after all._

"How many of them?" Lester whispered to her.

Emma kept her eyes focused ahead of her, doing her best to pretend that Hook's crew wasn't waking up slowly around her. "Including Pan and the Lost Boys? About twenty," she whispered back. "None of them are paying attention."

"Good," came another member of Hook's crew.

"Where's the Captain?" came another.

Emma swallowed the bile in her throat. "I don't know. Rumpelstiltskin took him."

Lester shifted slightly to move closer to her. Then taking out a pocket knife, Lester began to cut the ropes that bounded her legs. Emma kept her eyes on Pan's group the whole time. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her pulse quickened beneath her skin. Now if she could only get him to take these magical cuffs off her…

"When I give the signal…" Lester began, but someone must have heard them.

"HEY!" one of Blackbeard's crew shouted. She looked up, startled to find the scrawny Pirate pointing directly at her. "They're waking up!"

Lester had just managed to cut her legs free when everything irrupted into utter chaos. Lester screamed, sword raised in an instant, while the rest of Hook's crew followed closely behind. Momentarily caught off guard, Blackbeard's crew and the Lost Boys just stared. Their shock didn't last long, though. Before she knew it, they were plunged into a battle. Swords clanging against swords and cries of shots echoed into the night.

Emma dove to the ground. Two pirates in the midst of a fight tumbled down next to her. Army crawling, she wiggled her way towards a sharp looking rock. She braced her wrists over it and attempted to break the ropes that bounded her. The ropes snapped free, just as a sword nearly took off her head. She fell back, not at all surprised to find Minks—the large one who had attacked her back on the Jolly Roger—looming over her.

"Just where do you think you are going, luv?"

Emma didn't even hesitate.

She bolted.

"Don't let her get away!" someone shouted from behind her.

She didn't look back, knowing all too well that Minks was hot on her heals. He was fast, but she was faster. The branches snapped back against her face, leaving angry red welts in the process. Emma wasn't particularly one to run from a fight, especially one to leave others behind, but she was defenseless and without a weapon, without magic. Not to mention, she needed to find Killian.

 _Killian._

Despite the ache in her legs and the pain in her side, she pushed herself forward because she couldn't bear the thought of going back to Blackbeard. Not when Rumpelstiltskin had Killian. Not when the White Fairy had a way to send her home.

Emma skidded to a halt. The terrain cut off suddenly. Not exactly a cliff, but not quite a hill either. She was just about to turn around when Minks, who hadn't stopped, barreled straight into her. He came out of nowhere. They tumbled down the hill together, rolling and rolling, until finally they stilled. On pure instinct, Emma began to scramble away, but Minks caught her ankle and pulled her back to him. Minks was stronger and he forced himself on top of her. Just like he had back on the Jolley Roger, he put all his weight on her and much to her horror, his hands came to wrap around her throat.

"I'm going to enjoy this," Minks sneered at her.

Then his hands tightened just enough to cut off her air supply. She gasped, struggling for air that would never come. Her arms came up to his wrists to pull him off her, but it was no use. He was too strong and she struggled to no avail. Her hands shot for the ground, desperately searching for a rock, _something, anything,_ to knock him off her when she remembered…

She may not have magic, but she wasn't completely defenseless either. Her hand shot for the nail, which still laid in her back pocket. Just when she began to see dark circles beginning to form at the corner of her eyes, her hand snapped forward and she plunged the nail deep into Minks' neck.

-x-

Killian hardly had any time to process that Rumpelstiltskin was actually in Neverland when the man in question took ahold of his arm and poofed them into nothingness. Killian felt his feet leave the ground and an invisible force press his body in all different directions. He could not breathe, he could not think and the pressure in his head built. It felt as if his ears would burst. Just when he felt like he was going to be sick, they were pulled back to reality in the blink of an eye.

Killian landed unceremoniously on the ground. From what he gathered, the Crocodile hadn't evaporated them terribly far from Pan's camp. They were still in Neverland and thankfully so. If he could somehow escape his fate, then perhaps he could get back to Emma.

 _Emma._

He was in a state of panic, and his thoughts couldn't seem to catch up to the events happening around him. If something happened to her because he had been so Goddman stupid….

"Hello, Dearie."

Hook found the Crocodile's eyes unerringly fast. "Bloody Crocodile," Hook hissed. "What the bloody hell are you doing in Neverland."

"My business. My concern."

"I'm not in the mood for games."

"Good. Either am I." Then after a moment, "You should be dead," Rumpelstiltskin told him.

Killian heaved himself back to his feet. "So should you."

Rumpelstiltskin squealed again. "Killing me is going to take a lot more than that, Dearie."

"Even demons can be killed. I will find a way."

The Crocodile bared his teeth before pointing dramatically at him. "I should have killed you when I had the chance."

"What's stopping you?"

Rumpelstiltskin thrusted his hand forward then. Even though they were standing more than an arm's length apart, something Killian could only describe as a force field lifted him off the ground and sent him flying into the tree behind him. Rumpelstiltskin gave his hand another sharp wave and the vines of the tree began to wrap around Killian's arms and legs. Killian struggled to move, but the vines held him tightly in place.

"You're a coward!" Killian shouted at him. "You don't even have the decency to fight a fair fight."

Rumpelstiltskin hesitated for no more than a moment before letting out a squeal of glee. "Ah. But you see?" He paused then to wave his twisted hands back and forth. "I don't care."

Without further ado, Rumpelstiltskin reached deep inside his chest. It robbed him of his ability to breathe and for a moment, all he felt was a blinding rush of pain. It shot up his spine, black circles began to form at the corner of his eyes. Then with a sharp tug, Rumpelstiltskin ripped his heart from his body and Killian had to bite his lip to keep from screaming.

"Get on with it then," Killian shouted at him. "Just do it!"

A monstrous grin began to spread on the Crocodile's face. "Oh no. I think I'm going to have some fun first." The Crocodile gave his heart a small squeeze. Killian hissed in pained. "You're going to do everything I say. How does that sound?"

 _Killian!_

If his heart had still been inside his chest, it would have fallen in a clump on the cold, forest floor. On its own accord, Killian's head turned in the direction of _her_ voice. She escaped was his first thought. _Then, oh Seven Hells, she escaped._ was his second thought. He prayed that he was hearing things. He prayed that his Swan had not just broken free only to waltz right into another trap.

 _Killian!_

There was no mistaken her voice. It echoed loud and true throughout the night. In the palm of the Crocodile's hand, he could see his heart glowing and beating _for_ her. The Crocodile must have seen this reaction from him or perhaps he _felt_ the ache in Killian's heart, yearning for her and only her. Perhaps the Crocodile saw the horror in his eyes or saw the way his body went ridged when she called out for him.

If you couldn't imagine how he felt, think bits and pieces of broken despair. Think coming into the second act when it was already too late to stop the fall from happening.

"And what is this?" Rumpelstiltskin squealed with pure and alarming joy. "So what Pan tells me is true?"

"You leave her out of this."

"And what would be the fun in that?" Rumpelstiltskin asked as if this was all some sort of game.

"You don't need her," Killian hissed.

"You're right. I don't," Rumpelstiltskin told him with the careless wave of his other hand. "I have no interest in her other than what she means to you." He let out a high-pitched laugh.

Killian was genuinely afraid now. In all his nightmares, he had never once imagined his visit with Rumpelstiltskin to go quite like this. It had always been the Crocodile crushing Emma's heart, not the other way around. This was a far worse fate than he ever could have imagined. Anything… _anything_ would have been better than this. He would have welcomed death like an old friend compared to this.

Rumpelstiltskin waltzed right over to him until their noses were practically touching. "You took my love from me and now I'm going to take away yours. Only you're going to do it for me."

-x-

Much to Killian's dismay, it didn't take Emma long to find him. When she saw him, she launched herself into his arms, completely and utterly unaware of the trap she had just walked into. Not on his own accord, he found his arms wrapping around her, pulling her in close. Under normal circumstances, it would have been a joyous moment. He would have kissed her until he stole her breath away. He would have whispered sweet nothings in her ear. He would have carried her back to the Jolly Roger and made sweet, sweet love to her.

But this was all a dream and nothing more. He couldn't shake the feeling of Rumpelstiltskin's cold hand on his heart.

"Emma," he gasped her name, his eyes growing wide at the sight of her shirt stained with blood.

"Don't worry. It's not mine," she told him quickly. Before he could tell her to get the bloody hell away from him, she started talking again, going on about Blackbeard and how _she_ got away. Then his stomach dropped in his chest when she presented her wrists to him.

"You need to take these off me."

"W-what? What do you mean?"

"These cuffs prevent me from using my magic. I can't take them off. Someone else has too," she held out her wrists again, clearly waiting for him to do just that.

He could feel Rumpelstiltskin gripping at his heart, feel the excitement brewing in the Crocodile's, sick, sick way of his.

Emma must have sensed his inner turmoil, or perhaps she saw it, plain as day on his face because she took a small step away from him. Rumpelstiltskin may have had control over his body, but _emotionally_ his heart still belonged to him.

Emma cocked her head to the side, studying him slightly. "How'd you get away?" she asked him skeptically, as if it had just occurred to her that it was Rumpelstiltskin who had taken him hostage.

He had to tell her. " _Run,"_ he choked out, which earned a sharp clench of his heart. He collapsed in pain, clutching at where should have been a hole in his chest.

Emma fell down with him, catching him before he hit the ground. "Killian…"

It took all his strength to shove him off her. "You need to run, Emma. You need to find the White Fairy right now."

Even as he said these words, his hand unconsciously reached for the sword at his hip. He wanted nothing more than to break free from this hell he was being subjected to, and in that moment, Killian knew there was perhaps nothing worse in the world than being a prisoner to your own body.

Emma took the slightest of steps away from him, finally understanding. "He took your heart," Emma stated painfully. "Rumpelstiltskin took your heart didn't he?"

"Run, Emma. _Please._ Run."

Emma shook her head.

Killian swung his sword and Emma jumped out of the way just in the nick of time. It tore off the branch to the right of her.

"Emma. Please. I can't stop it. You have to run."

He was visibly shaking now and still, she did not move. He loved her for her bravery and courage, but now she was being plain stupid.

"I don't want to leave you. Not like this," she told him, eyes wide with fear.

He swung his sword again, missing her by barely an inch.

"Damnit, Swan! Please run."

"I can't leave you."

This time when his sword came down, he caught her arm, drawing an angry red welt in the process. She gasped, stumbling backwards and away from him. His eyes grew wide in horror at what he had just done, but it didn't last long. He felt Rumpelstiltskin pull him forward and against his best wishes, he obeyed.

" _Emma_!" he shouted, desperate to make her understand. "Run."

She bolted from him. It took all his strength to give her a head start. He was thankful she was faster, but unlike her, he had spent far too many lifetimes in Neverland. He knew his way around like the back of his hand. Emma, though, had no idea where she was running. She didn't know this land. She didn't know the ins and outs, the perils that awaited around every turn. She didn't know that the turn she had just made would lead her straight to a dead end. Much to his horror, she caught her foot on a weed and she went tumbling towards the ground.

Killian skidded to a halt a couple feet away from her. He had his sword out, prepared and ready. His hand swung the sword for good measure and Killian choked back a sob. To have your body separate itself from your mind was truly the worst feeling. There were no words to describe how he felt in that moment.

Emma stood up slowly, eyeing the monstrous wall of rocks in front of her. He had boxed her in with no way out, except maybe back the way she came, back towards _him._ She was defenseless. Completely and utterly defenseless. When she finally turned to face him, it somehow didn't surprise him to find her in a state of unusual calm.

"Emma…" Killian choked back a sob. "You have to kill me," he told her, knowing all the same that she didn't have anything to stop him.

She gave him an incredibly sad smile. "It's okay, Killian" she told him this as if she truly believed those words, as if Rumpelstiltskin didn't have a hold on his heart, as if Rumpelstiltskin wasn't going to make him kill her. "It's okay," she repeated.

Killian shook his head. Tears fell from his eyes. He couldn't suppress his anguish. Not anymore. Not when Emma wouldn't even put up a fight. He attempted to take a step back, but Rumpelstiltskin kept him grounded. "No. Emma. I can't lose you."

"It's okay." she took a step closer to him. "This isn't your fault."

"Please," he gasped, the sword shaking in his hand. "I can't stop it."

His mind was telling him to let her go, but his feet kept moving on their own accord. It was Emma who closed the distance between them. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in close. Then she kissed him gently on the lips. "I love you, Killian," she told him.

"I love you too."

She leaned back into his embrace again. He held her close. His arm came around her back on its own free will, shaking violently just above the center of her heart. Killian felt his pulse begin to race, the pain in his chest tighten, as he fought with all his strength to resist the single command the Crocodile had just whispered into his soul.

 _Kill_

But he resisted because he loved her and he couldn't kill her. He could fight this he decided. If he could just keep on going, he wouldn't have to kill his Swan. The more he resisted the Crocodile's commands, the more his pain intensified. It shot through him with every shaky breath, every inch he moved. He could fight this. _He could fight this_ …

He couldn't fight this.

His hand snapped down so fast he hardly had time to process what he had just done until Emma let out a muffled cry against his chest. She slumped against him as her legs gave out from under her. Not even fully comprehending what he had just done, he pulled back slightly, momentarily confused why she was gasping the way she was. Emma stared up at him with an incredibly dazed look, one he was sure mirrored his own. Only when she collapsed to the ground did Rumpelstiltskin finally, _finally,_ release the grip on his heart, and Killian's senses came back to him in a blinding rush of agony and despair.

Killian flung his sword to the side and collapsed with her. He heaved her into his arms. She clutched at his jacket, at his heart and held onto him tightly. Blood seeped from the wound and onto the ground, onto _him,_ leaving behind the memory of how painful it had been. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. _Not like this._ She was supposed to make it back home. Home to her son. To her parents. To this Storybrooke of hers. She was supposed to make it back home to _him._

"No. Oh…Gods. _Emma,_ " he choked on his words, not even sure if he brought them to life.

"Killian," she gasped, struggling to breathe.

Oh god.

So much blood.

There was too much blood.

 _Too much blood._

It poured out of the small hole in her chest, staining her top red with so much blood that it began to turn black. He could not lose someone he loved again. Not again. He couldn't lose her. He couldn't lose Emma because he loved her.

"How does it feel Dearie?"

He had been so preoccupied with Emma that he hadn't heard the Crocodile approach. Not that it made any difference. Killian eyed his heart, which Rumpelstiltskin clutched not so gently in his hand. In what should have filled him with rage, only filled him with hope. Killian glanced down at Emma again, who was taking deep and sharp breaths, as she struggled to remain conscious. A part of him knew that it wouldn't be much longer until she gave into the darkness completely. He glanced down at her, focusing on her and her alone. And that was when he knew. He couldn't live without her and he welcomed the moment the Crocodile crushed his heart into dust.

Killian's head snapped up. "Do it!" He shouted. "Get on with it!" Still, Rumpelstiltskin only stared. "ISN'T THIS WHAT YOU WANTED?" Killian shouted, desperate for a release he feared would never come.

In the short distance it took for Rumpelstiltskin to reach him, the Crocodile did not take his eyes off him. Then he was hovering over them, like a predator ready to kill its prey.

"That would be far too easy. Don't you think?" Rumpelstiltskin stared at Emma with such awe that it made him sick. When Rumpelstiltskin's scaly hand reached down to touch her face, Killian pulled her in just a tad bit closer, a tad bit tighter. The reaction only caused the Crocodile's smirk to grow. "You see Dearie, there are some punishments far worse than death."

With that said, Rumpelstiltskin plunged Killian's heart back into his chest. Killian gasped in shock as he was hit with a whirlwind of emotions. Before Killian could even process that the Crocodile had given him his heart back, Rumpelstiltskin disappeared in a puff of black smoke, leaving them completely and utterly alone.

"Killian…"

Her voice was like a dream. It pulled him deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole, into the void in his heart that was beginning to form.

Weak. Her voice was weak and frail.

 _He couldn't let her die._

"Shhhh. It's going to be okay," he told her, though he wasn't sure if he ever managed to bring the words to life. His senses kept going in and out. He couldn't think straight and he was having an incredibly hard time processing the events that had just unfolded. "We will find a way. There's always a way…" even as he said this, he choked on his words.

A tear fell from his eye and onto her cheek. She gave him an incredibly sad smile then as she reached up to wipe them from his face. It was then that he saw the leather cuff still strapped to her wrist. He tore it off her, knowing she couldn't die like this.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much," she told him softly.

He eyed the cuff with such disgust. It amazed him how the smallest of things could cause the most, irrevocable damage. If she had her magic, perhaps she would have gotten away. Perhaps their roles would have been reversed and she would have been the one cradling him, as he bled out on the forest floor.

He would have preferred it.

He closed his eyes, desperately wishing that this was all some nightmare, that he would wake up on the Jolly Roger with Emma safe in his arms. If she had just had magic….

Magic.

Yes. That was it. Magic could save her. _The White Fairy_ could save her.

She would help him. The fairies could save her. They had to help him because he could not let Emma die. He scoped her up in his arms without a second thought and ran blindly into the night. Panic threatened to overwhelm his sanity and his head spun out of control. He pushed pass the pain in his shoulders, the pain in his legs. If he just kept on running, he could get Emma to the fairies in time.

There was not enough time. Hook sprinted, breathing hard, wincing as a branch snapped back against his face and opened a cut under his left eye. With every passing minute, with every torn breath that passed through her throat, his hope of saving her began to diminish. Just when he thought he couldn't go any further, he tore through a bush and burst out into a clearing, right in front of the old weeping tree.

"Somebody help!" he shouted at the tree, feeling incredibly stupid. " _Help me. Please"_

So he shouted and pleaded at the tree, to the empty night, begging the fairies—anyone—to save her, to save _him_. And no matter how hard he cried, no matter how much he pleaded, only the wind seemed to answer his heartache. It could have been hours or mere minutes before he came to the conclusion that the fairies were not going to help him.

"Killian."

A whisper now.

He sank to his knees and pulled her closely against him. He held her close under the beams of silver moonlight, afraid to let her go. He hadn't fully understood just how much his existence depended on hers. Suddenly, he knew. He knew that if she died, he would die with her. Emma Swan was his oxygen and if she died, then he would drown too.

"Killian," she rasped out. "It's okay. It's okay." She took a deep breath. "Listen. To me. _Killian_."

"No," he shook his head, his tears fell onto her face, onto the ground beside them. His Swan couldn't die. Not here. Not like this.

"I…I love you," she whispered to him. As she admitted this to him, she clutched at the ring he had given her. "I always have."

"Emma," he choked out. "Don't you dare do that. Don't say your goodbyes. You'll be okay. You hear me? You're a survivor...like me." He was crying now, truly crying and not even bothering to hide his tears. "I can't lose you."

"You have to take the potion," she managed. "You have to forget all of this."

"Tell me how we meet. Emma, _please._ I need to know. _"_ He was desperate now. He needed to know that he would one day see her again. "Tell me."

She smiled at him, eyes drifting shut. "You'll find me, Killian."

" _Always_ ," he whispered. "But Emma. Listen to me… _Emma!_ Hey. No. Not yet. Not yet," he said, doing his best to pull her back and the reality of their situation hit him like a punch in the gut. He patted her face, willing her to stay awake just a little bit longer. She blinked up at him, eyes going in and out of focus. "Emma, love. Hey. Stay with me."

She whispered his name then, or at least, he thought she had whispered his name. The tears grappled at his face. When she went limp in his arms, he gave her just the slightest disbelieving shake. She laid there with her eyes closed, her hair matted to her face and her porcelain skin impossibly cold. Killian could no longer suppress his sobs of anguish.

"Emma," he sobbed, losing it completely. "Wake up," he grabbed her by the shoulders. "You have to wake up. Your son needs you. _I need you._ Come on, Emma. Wake up….wake up…" Despite his cries, she remained completely and utterly still. "No. " He shook his head almost violently, refusing to believe. His head was pounding, his heart was aching, his soul was breaking. "No….Emma come back to me, love. I can't lose you… I can't…"

Killian clung to Emma and cried. He was in so much pain. It hurt to cry. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He was drowning, suffocating under the weight of regret and locked away memories. He had loved before but not like this. At the time, Milah had been his everything, but now, Emma Swan had claimed that place and so much more. He couldn't live without her.

Killian caressed her cheek with his hand. And then suddenly everything around him was no more. It was just him and her, and if it had been under different circumstance, that moment would have been beautiful. The kiss he placed on her lips was soft and sweet.

A warm glow began to build between them, growing so bright that he had to shield his eyes. It exploded across the forest.

And just like that, she was gone.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews! Really means a lot! Sorry this chapter was delayed. I wanted to get it out sooner, but work has been really busy lately.**

 **Anywho, I hope you enjoy.**

 **Chapter 15**

Emma had the strangest dream of falling. Falling down, down the rabbit hole. The vortex twisted her bones and turned her stomach. She didn't know what was up and what was down. She kept falling and falling until the ground came upon her so suddenly…

Emma awoke with a gasp. Her eyes snapped open and she immediately regretted it. She quickly closed them. The headache pulsating through her temples would surely be the death of her. She wanted nothing more than to fall back into the darkness and escape the dull thud pounding in her ears. Sleep would not come though. It wasn't until she rolled over to seek Killian's warmth and find a more comfortable position did her sense of feeling come back in a rush of agony.

Everything hurt.

She couldn't breathe. Her stomach trembled beneath her skin and then with a gasp, she hunched over to empty the contents of her stomach. When she was done, she managed to open her eyes, barely. She was tired. So utterly tired that she couldn't tell if she was dreaming or not. The darkness began to creep back in. It wished to take her away and she would have let it, if something was not holding her down. She was forgetting something, something terribly important, and she knew she was deliberately avoiding the shards of memories of how she had ended up in her current situation.

It felt like someone had carved a giant hole into her heart, as if a piece of her was missing. Her hand flew to her chest. It shouldn't have surprised her to find her fingers coated in red, but it didn't. She glanced down, startled to find her shirt stained and soaked through with blood—her blood.

She choked back a sob.

Then suddenly, she remembered.

 _Rumpelstiltskin took Killian's heart._

"Killian!" she gasped, but she hardly brought the words to life.

Fear. It shot up her spine, pulsed beneath her skin. Mustering up all her strength, she forced herself to sit up. Blood rushed to her head and for one startling moment, she fell over and onto the floorboards with a loud thump.

 _Rumpelstiltskin took Killian's heart._

He had made Killian drive a knife through her back and oh God… _Killian._ Panic threatened to overwhelm her sanity. If she could just keep breathing, everything would turn out alright. She would find him. If she just kept on breathing, everything would be _alright._

 _Killian._

She had to find him. Despite the pain in her chest, she pushed herself back to her feet. She didn't get far when her legs caved out from under her again. She grabbed the nearest thing she could find, which just happened to be the bedside table. It couldn't support her weight though, and it crashed to the floor along with her. Helpless, Emma could only stare up at the ceiling, hoping somebody would find her. That was when it hit her.

This wasn't just any ceiling.

 _No._

She could no longer suppress her sobs of anguish. She had wanted nothing more than to return to Storybrooke, yet now that she had, she didn't know what to think. Not like this. She couldn't leave him there. _Not like this._ They had a plan. If you couldn't imagine how she felt, think bits and pieces of floating despair. Think drowning in hopelessness. Think coming into the second act when it was already too late to stop the fall from happening.

Emma cried out again, mostly so someone, anyone would hear her. She needed to stop the bleeding. She needed to find Killian. She couldn't die here _. Not like this_. Not on the cold floor of her bedroom, alone. She put pressure on her wound, finding little strength to do anything else. It did little to stop the blood flow. She let out a deep breath. She could fight this. If she fought hard enough, she could push her mind past the point of suffering a normal person could bear. Now, if she could only keep the darkness at bay, which threatened to swallow her whole, _everything would be alright._

That was when she heard the front door open, followed by a choir of voices. She nearly laughed with relief. Hearing her mother and father brought tears to her eyes. She choked out a sob, a plea, but nothing came out. She must have cried out again because the next thing she heard was footsteps pounding up the stairs.

 _"_ _Emma!"_

"Mom?" she whispered, though she honestly wasn't sure if she said anything at all. Snow threw her arms around her and pulled her in tight. Emma's head fell heavily against her mother's chest. In the embrace of her mother's arms, she felt safe, which was making it rather difficult to remember why she had felt so panicked a moment before.

Snow, sensing something was wrong, gently pulled her daughter back. "Oh my god… _David!"_ Snow shrieked.

Her mother must have seen the blood. Emma whispered that she was okay and that they should go find Killian, but her mother didn't seem to hear her.

"Oh my God…. Emma," Snow sobbed. She pulled her daughter back to her. "It's going to be okay, sweetie. Just stay with me okay? Your father went to get help. Everything is going to be okay."

She must have slipped in between a world of consciousness and unconsciousness. It felt as she was peering through a looking glass, on the other side, unable to fully grasp the series of events unfolding around her. She could make out distinct faces and moments. Snow sobbing. David crying. Henry crying. Why were they all crying? She felt herself being lifted. She could hear Henry telling her that everything was going to be alright.

 _Henry._

Henry was safe.

 _Henry was safe._

That was the last thought she had before blacking out completely. When she did finally come to, it took her several minutes to gather her senses. The white walls and the gentle beep of the monitor gave it away. Mary Margaret sat next to her, flipping through the pages of Henry's storybook.

"Mom?" Emma whispered, her voice laced with traces of sleep. She did not recognize her voice.

Mary Margaret's face lit up with pure joy. With tears in her eyes, she rushed to her daughter's side. "Emma! Oh, thank God. The doctors weren't sure when you would wake up."

"What happened?" she rasped out.

Emma felt as if her head had been split in half, as if a truck had smashed into her—not once, but continuously, over and over again.

"We were hoping you'd tell us."

Emma's hand shot to her neck, seeking some comfort. _Gone._ Her heart clenched, almost painfully so. "Where is it?" Emma asked, panic quickly finding its way into her voice.

Snow's eyes widened in alarm. "Where what is, sweetheart?"

"My necklace…where is it?"

"Oh." Snow said, finally understanding. She turned to the small tray next to her. Emma watched her fish out the swan pendant that Neal had given her all those years ago. "Don't worry. It's right here."

Emma shook her head. "No. Not that one. The other one."

Snow just stared at her daughter, somewhat troubled and slightly confused. Her mother fished out the other necklace, Hook's ring, without a word. Emma snatched it from her mother's hand and put it quickly back over her neck. She relaxed immediately as it fell against her heart. If she couldn't go back, then at least Killian would see the ring and then he would know.

Unless…

She swallowed the bile in her throat. She had asked him to take the potion, to allow himself to forget, so they could set the future back on track. Even if he hadn't taken the potion, she couldn't deny that it had been decades for him. Her heart began to beat rapidly inside her chest. And what if he had taken the potion? But then again, what if he hadn't? She didn't know which was worse.

"Emma?" Emma looked up, startled to find her mother staring at her with those big doe-like eyes of hers. "What's wrong, Emma?"

"We met Hook in the Enchanted Forest. Right?"

"I don't understand…"

"How did we meet Hook?" Emma asked a little more desperate. She needed to know that she hadn't completely screwed everything up. If he had took the potion and forgot her, then everything should have played out exactly as the way she remembered it.

"In the Enchanted Forest. He was working for Cora at the time, but sweetheart, I don't understand what this has to do with anything…"

Emma relaxed, though the tug on her heartstrings was quite real. Killian had kept his promise and drank the potion after all. In that moment, her heart had never felt quite so heavy. Killian had forgotten her. She was fiddling with his necklace again when she caught Mary Margaret glancing towards the door, no doubt debating whether she should fetch a doctor.

Emma dropped the necklace and forced herself to, in the very least, relax...even if she was screaming on the inside. "I'm fine…Mom, really."

At the sound of "Mom," Mary Margaret too visibly relaxed. After a moment, she asked, "Emma what happened?"

Emma shook her head. She wasn't ready yet and she suspected neither were they. "No. You go first. What happened with Greg and Tamara."

She thought her mother was going to protest, but ultimately must have decided against it. "Greg and Tamara activated Regina's trigger. Neal and your father were able to track them down and take back some of the beans. We were able to throw it into a portal."

"Neal is okay?" Emma cut in.

"Yes. He's fine. We all are."

"And Greg and Tamara?"

Her mother's face faltered only for a moment, but a moment was all Emma needed to see behind the false serenity. "Well…they are MIA at the moment." Then more urgently. "But don't worry! We are doing everything we can to find them."

That did not ease her state of mind. "Henry. Someone's with Henry?"

"Yes. Sweetheart. _Relax._ He's with Regina." Then Snow looked at the clock. "In fact, they should be here any moment. Henry was very worried about you. We all were. We thought you were dead…but Regina was able to put David under a sleeping curse…do you remember that?" Emma nodded. With a weak smile, her mother continued. "Hook…we tried talking to him about it, but he….I don't know. He wouldn't tell us anything and then he just…"

Emma sat up. "He just what?"

"He left. We can't find him."

Emma's heart sank inside her chest. "What do you mean he just left?"

"We haven't seen him since Regina threw the bean in the portal. We think that maybe…"

Emma shut her eyes tight. _No._ She knew exactly what they thought. "No. He's not helping them. He wouldn't."

Her mother seemed a little taken back by this. "Emma…"

" _He wouldn't,"_ she snapped.

Mary Margaret sighed, yet gave her daughter a soft nod. "Emma…I just don't understand. _How_ did you get home? Were you really in Neverland? That can't be possible."

She knew she would have to explain herself eventually. Thankfully, now was not that time. Henry bolted into the room at the exact moment. Emma grunted in pain as she caught him against her chest.

"Henry!" Mary Margaret gently warned. "Be careful."

"oh! Sorry, Mom," Henry muttered sheepishly. He attempted to pull away, but Emma just pulled him right back.

"I missed you kid," she whispered.

Henry pulled back slightly to look her in the face. "I missed you too." Then when she wouldn't let him go, he laughed. "Mom! Its only been five days," he told her. "I'm fine!"

Five days? That was all. It had certainly been a lot longer for her. Time moved differently in Neverland, after all. How many days—no months—had it been for her? Three? Four? Five? Time seemed completely irrelevant when you had the ability to live forever. Tink and Hook had both told her that time worked differently in Neverland. At the time, she hadn't fully understood. Now, though, she accepted that time was an illusion. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Five days.

It had felt like a lifetime for her.

When Henry finally pulled back she caught Regina standing off to the side. Regina gave her a soft, but understanding nod. "Miss Swan."

"Thank you," she mouthed to Regina because even after everything, Henry still belonged to Regina and she didn't have to bring him here.

"Henry, why don't you go find Emma some water?" Regina asked, surprising all of them. Then Regina's eyes shifted to Snow and gave her too a pointed look.

Snow, getting the hint, stood up. "Oh…yes! Henry. Let's go find Emma some water and perhaps something to eat."

Henry eyes lit up, no doubt loving the idea he could be of service. They watched him hurry from the room, Mary Margaret following closely behind. Emma's eyes snapped back to Regina, knowing all too well that Regina would have only wanted Henry from the room for one reason.

"You should be dead," was all Regina said.

Regina was right. She should be dead and Emma would have been lying if she said that she _hadn't_ died _._ "I know," was all she said.

"Time travel isn't possible, Miss Swan."

Emma chuckled. "I don't know what you want me to tell you, Regina."

Regina took a step closer. For the first time in an incredibly long time, Emma couldn't figure out what Regina wanted. She didn't look vengeful, just curious and Emma couldn't figure out why.

"You reek of magic."

"You think magic sent me back then?"

Regina rolled her eyes, as if the answer was obvious. "It did more than _that_ , Miss Swan."

Emma bit her lip. Right before she had woken up in the apartment, she had heard Killian calling to her, begging for her to wake up. His pleas broke her heart and she wanted nothing more than to find her way through the darkness, back to him. But then he had kissed her and her world had flipped upside down. She was suddenly no longer in his arms, but back in a hospital, left wondering if the whole thing had been nothing more than a dream.

Her hand shot to his ring and her heart hummed beneath her skin. It wasn't a dream. The moments they had spent together had been very real and she wouldn't have traded them for the world.

"Regina. Is it possible to bring someone's memories back?"

Regina hesitated, the question clearly surprising her. "Yes. There are ways… though it would certainly take some time. I would have to know the original potion for starters." Regina cocked her head to the side. "And may I ask who might this potion be for, Miss Swan?"

Regina was just staring at her, eyebrows raised, as she waited for an answer. Before Emma could give one, her father and Neal stepped into the room. Her father quickly pulled her into one of his bear hugs, completely oblivious to the conversation Regina and her were just having. Neal hovered awkwardly by the doorway.

"It's good to have you back," David told her. When he released her and took a step back, he finally seemed to realize that it was just her and Regina in the room. He glanced nervously between the two. "Everything alright in here? Where's Snow?"

"Right here," came her mother's voice.

Henry rushed back to her side with a glass full of water and a cup of jello.

Emma took the water gratefully and set the jello aside. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to stomach anything at the moment.

Naturally, they all wanted to know what had happened to her, where she had gone and what she had been up to the last couple days. She kept her story purposely vague, selfishly wanting to keep most of it to herself. She knew, though, there was nothing she could say to make them understand. For them, expect perhaps Neal, Neverland was a far away, magical land that you only experienced in dreams. How did she convey to them that Neverland was neither a place of joy or hope, only darkness, horror and death?

And then there was Hook.

To them, he was a traitor, a thief. How did she convey to someone the way he always smelt like the sea or how her stomach knotted up every time he flashed her that smile of his. How could she describe how it felt when he made her laugh? How could she explain the way they could be in his cabin, or in the middle of a storm, or in the woods of Neverland, but as long as she was with him, she was at home?

Henry had just finished telling them all a story, when Neal asked, "You were really in Neverland? With Hook?"

The room went silent. It was the first thing he had said directly to her since arriving at the hospital. You could cut through the tension with a knife. Neal's disbelief didn't go unnoticed and she could hear the skepticism in his voice. She didn't blame him for it though.

Snow, sensing the tension between them, stood up then and gave everyone a pointed look. "I think we should let Emma rest now. Granny's anyone?"

Henry, not fully understanding, whined, "What? We just got here."

Emma gave his hand a gentle pat. "Hey, kid. The sooner I rest up, the quicker I can get out of here."

Henry seemed to like that idea much more. "Great!" Then to his other mother, "Can we get ice cream?"

Regina frowned. "One scoop."

"Two scoops," Henry compromised.

"One scoop," Regina corrected, not budging.

"We will see," Henry told her with a smirk before racing out of the room.

David lingered the longest, only moving until Snow cleared her throat. With a sigh, David gave his daughter's hand a reassuring squeeze. "We will check in later," he promised. "Try to get some rest."

"I'll be okay," she told him, though she didn't know exactly who she was trying to convince.

Once everybody had finally left, an awkward silence settled between the two of them. Neal shifted back and forth on his feet. "So Neverland?" he asked again, eyebrows raised in amusement.

Emma relaxed slightly. He didn't seem angry or upset, just confused. She searched his face for any sign of a lie. When she saw none, she didn't expect to be hit with such disappointment. Of course, he wouldn't have remembered her. She had given him the potion exactly as The White Fairy had asked. Looking at Neal now, she only saw the boy he once was, and the truth of the matter was that she missed Baelfire.

"You know. I spent an awfully long time in Neverland," Neal admitted. Then looking down, he added softly, "With Hook actually."

Emma knew what he was getting at, but she wouldn't budge. She was much too stubborn for that. "Is that so?"

Neal pointed to her chest. "That's Hook's ring. Isn't it?" Emma quickly tucked it beneath her hospital gown, choosing to say nothing at all. When she didn't give him an answer, he added, "You know you can tell me anything, Em. Right?"

She couldn't look him in the eye because that wasn't true. If she told Neal that she had been there, that she had falling in love with Killian, it would break his heart, and she couldn't do that to him. She cared for Neal too much to hurt him like that.

Neal closed the distance between them and took her hand in his. "I'm happy you're back, Em."

"Me too," she told him, though even to her own ears it sounded like a lie.

-x-

It was a miracle, honestly, Killian had not managed to get himself killed. She had just vanished, as if she had never been there at all, as if the whole thing had been a dream.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, for the sun had not risen since her death. She had died and took all the hope and beauty along with her. More than anything, he wished he had taken that silly green potion of hers, as she had asked. Of course, he still could. He still had the bottle tucked in his back pocket for safekeeping. He could take it and he could leave Neverland and forget ever having met her.

But drinking the potion would mean forgetting his Swan and all the moments they had spent with each other. At the time, the thought of forgetting her was preposterous. Now, though, he could only wonder if it was truly better to have loved and lost or to never have loved at all.

Emma Swan had carved a piece of herself onto his heart. The potion could make him forget, but it couldn't change who he was now. Even though he would look intact, he would never look quite the same as he had before the fall.

 _Milah._

Had it hurt this much when he lost Milah? He didn't think so. He quickly bottled up his pain and turned it into a lust for revenge. And for years that had work. Then Emma Swan fell into his life with her beautiful hair and lovely laugh.

 _Emma._

A tear fell down his cheek. The rum did little to ease the pain. In fact, it only seemed to make it worse. It made him hallucinate; it made him yearn for what could have been.

 _Emma._

He had loved her with every ounce of his being. He had given his heart to her and when she died, she took it with her. He wondered if he would spend the rest of forever with a hole inside his heart that couldn't be filled. And suddenly he knew that he would die. Maybe not immediately, maybe not with the same blinding rush of pain, but he would die all the same. After all, he wouldn't live for very long without a heart, without a soul. Frankly, he was just an empty husk waiting to break.

With that thought in mind, he drunkenly stumbled to the edge of the ship, debating whether or not he should take a swim with the mermaids. It would be quick and pleasant—almost like falling asleep. It was a lovely thought. The skies, as if sensing his inner turmoil, opened up on him and he was soaked within minutes. Not that he cared. The truth was, he was tired. He was tired of fighting. He wasn't strong enough for this. Not again.

 _Liam. Milah. Emma._

 _Emma._

He wanted to see them all again, most of all her. How could he convey to someone the way she always smelled like strawberries or how his stomach knotted up every time he saw her shake out her hair? How could he describe how it felt when she made him laugh? How could he explain the way they could be in his cabin, or in the middle of a storm, or in the woods of Neverland, but as long as Emma was with him, he was at home?

He missed her so much that he was beginning to suspect drowning was the only way to stop his pain. However, the problem was that he was already drowning. Drowning with regret and locked away memories. Drowning with sorrow. He wished he could turn back the clocks and relive those last few moments with her. He would have done so much differently.

It made him wonder if he did have that chance, how would he have gone about his last moments with her. Would he have tried to change the future to prevent her death from even happening or would he have spent the time making every waking moment count?

That was when a light bulb went off in his head.

How he ever managed to make it to the tree without breaking something or drowning, he'd never know. By the time he reached that old ancient tree, he was soaked to the thigh with muck and slush. If he would have stopped to think about it, he would have come to realize that this was a pointless task. The White Fairy had failed to send Emma back to her home. Not to mention, he had done little to earn her trust. It was pointless, but he had to try.

Emma was gone and there was nothing he could do to bring her back.

But he had to try even if it meant that she'd hate him for it.

When he closed his eyes, he could only see her. Her smile, her eyes. There would be no time for second chances now.

He collapsed in front of the ancient tree. Its branches drooped around him in a way that looked like even the tree was weeping. It was unmistakably quiet. He heaved back a breath and choked back a sob. He wasn't sure why he expected the fairies to be out and about, simply waiting for his return.

Life was never that simple.

"I know you're in there!" he shouted at the tree. "I know you're in there! Come out! You hear me!?"

Only the wind answered his pleas. The rain came down harder and heavier. It soaked through his skin now, straight to his bones and iced his heart.

"Help me or I will burn your tree to the ground," he shouted, a little louder this time. "I will burn this tree and every damn tree in this sodden place…if…if…" his voice cracked, his threat forgotten in the wind.

Thunder boomed around him, rocking him to the very core. Lightning flashed across the sky.

"WHAT'S THE BLOODY POINT!"

When no reply came, Killian stood up and threw a rock at it. Because he was so drunk, the sudden motion caused him to lose his balance. He slipped and landed right on his back. Suddenly, he was laughing. Laughing at his own stupidity. Laughing that he ever thought these fairies would help him do the impossible. He choked on his laugh. Tears grappled at his face and his laugh slowly transformed back into a sob. If he closed his eyes, he could picture her, all of her. He could see her smile, her eyes, her face. She was there. His Swan was there, leaning over him, giving him that pointed look of hers. He'd imagined her yelling at him, telling him to get up.

 _Pull yourself together, Killian._

Then her image shifted, only to be replaced with her pale, lifeless face instead. His eyes snapped back open.

"Why!?" he shouted at the tree, as if it was listening to him, as if it could hear him. "You could have saved her. YOU COULD HAVE SAVED HER!" Then more to himself, " _Why?"_

He would have done anything to bring her back.

 _Anything._

"Is that true?"

Hook shot up and immediately regretted it. Blood rushed to his head and for one startling moment, he stumbled backwards into the tree. He leaned heavily on it. When he finally came to it, he could see multiple fairies hovering in front of him. Then his eyes adjusted and the many fairies became one fairy.

The White Fairy.

"What do you want?" he snapped at her.

"I believe it was you who summoned me?" The White Fairy eyed him with all her judgmental years of wisdom. "Your heart is true. I can see it."

 _Bloody hell._

He hated fairies.

"You knew. Didn't you? You knew all this was going to happen."

He hated how weak he sounded. He hated how much his heart ached. He wanted her to put an end to his misery. He wanted her to make him forget. It would be easier that way, wouldn't it? She could wipe his memories and it'd be like Emma Swan never existed. He swallowed his misery and pushed himself up.

The White Fairy gave him a peculiar look, but said nothing at all, and she didn't need to either. Her silence was enough to confirm his suspicions.

"Fuck you," he shouted at her.

"If you do not want my help—"

"No!" he shouted, though it came out more of a sob. " _Please._ Can you help me?"

"I'm afraid there's not much I can do."

"Yes there is. You can get me off this bloody fucking island."

The White Fairy regarded him quietly for a moment. "And why should I do that?"

"So I can change the future."

"That's impossible," she replied calmly.

Hook shook his head. He had to believe that he could still save her. He had to believe that he could prevent her death. He had to believe that their love was powerful enough to change the course of time. "No. No it's not."

"You cannot bring her back. She is gone."

Hook shook his head. "I know we meet in the future. I can stop it."

The White Fairy regarded him for a moment. To him it felt as if she could see straight into his soul. "And how will you be able to do that?"

"She used a magic bean to get here. I'll make sure she never gets that bean."

"Then all of this will never have happened. Your memories of her will fade away…your _love_ for her will fade."

He swallowed his misery and forced out the words he so desperately didn't want to say. "I know what's at stake."

There was an itch in his heart, but he made a point not to scratch it. He feared what might come leaking out. He feared that he would go back on his wishes. But he had to save her. _He couldn't let her die._

The White Fairy fluttered a little closer to him and peered at him with those piercing eyes of hers. They were wells of deep and keen memory. He wondered how much she was capable of. He'd imagined a great deal.

"I see something else. You wish to kill Rumpelstiltskin."

"Aye. Well, it would be an added bonus, I cannot lie."

The White Fairy made no comment on that, choosing to ignore him instead. "Very well," she replied with pursed lips.

The White Fairy waved her hand in a circular motion and a small white glob plopped out of her hand. He held up his hand to catch it. The weight of the white globe surprised him. The White Fairy waved her hand yet again and the bright light grew so bright that he had to use his other arm to shield his eyes. The light eventually faded away completely. When he unclenched his fist, he almost laughed with joy.

 _A magic bean._

"It'll take you back to the Enchanted Forest. I'm afraid that's the best I can do."

He somehow doubted that, but he wouldn't argue with her. It was enough. Anything was better than Neverland. He would find his own way to the Land Without Magic.

"Thank you."

"Killian," she called.

"Yes?"

"Don't forget what it is you are after. This journey of revenge is a dangerous one. If you plan to take it, I'd suggest you start by digging two graves. One for your enemy and one for yourself."

Hook scoffed at her. Fairies and their riddles. "Duly noted."

Then she was gone.

Hook stared at the bean in his hand. Would you give up your vengeance against someone you hated if it meant saving someone you loved? If it came down to it, he would choose Emma. It was always Emma. _Always._ To see her again would be joy, it would be like coming up for a breath of fresh air, so he held onto the thought that one day they would meet again. It was clear now and he'd do anything, _anything,_ to save her.

Even if it meant them forgetting Neverland.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: HUGE Thanks to all the reviews! Sorry this has been delayed. I've been studying for some tests as well as traveling.**

 **Just as a reminder. Emma never told Hook that Snow White and Prince Charming were her parents.**

* * *

 **Chapter 16**

 ** _Enchanted Forest_**

 ** _—_** ** _Sometime Before—_**

It had been years—decades even—but Emma Swan was so much more than a distant memory. He saw her everywhere. At the bar. At the market. He could still see her smiling at him, the way she looked at him with those bright green eyes, so full of hope and love. Most nights, he welcomed sleep, for it was the only place she truly existed. He dreamt of conversations they would never have, of places they would never go. He dreamt of them making love. He dreamt of them living happily ever after, or however it was that fairytales ended. Once he dreamt of a little girl who had his eyes and Emma's golden hair. Yes. He welcomed these dreams, for he felt more alive than he did when he was awake.

Then there were other nights—the nights he'd awake in a cold sweat, sobbing her name. It was nights like these when he'd find himself scrubbing his hand. _Scrubbing._ Despite the pain from literally scrubbing his hand raw, he couldn't stop. He had to get the blood off. _But it wouldn't go away._

Her blood was everywhere.

Under his nails, in between his fingers, on the back of the palms—and so he scrubbed and scrubbed because the damage was permanent. So on nights when he dreamt of her dying, he'd wake up and wash the imaginary blood from his hand until his fingers went numb.

Under his nails and between his fingers.

 _Scrubbing._

If he didn't find her soon, he'd go insane. Since returning to the Enchanted Forest, he had little luck. Very few people had heard of the Land Without Magic and nobody had heard of a town called Storybrooke. In fact, most were not even aware that other realms existed. They spat at him for even suggesting such madness. To make matters even worse, he wasn't even sure if his Swan had even been born yet.

Seven hells time travel was confusing…and exhausting.

Regina had been promising, yet it was Cora who had given him the better offer. Even though she had the power to rip his heart out at any moment and crush it, he took her side. He tried to ignore that little detail, convincing himself that she needed him much more than he needed her.

"What's our port of destination?"

"Storybrooke," Cora said with a smirk gracing her red lips.

His heart pounded in his chest. _Emma._ "Curious name. Is that where—?"

"She is and so is he."

He exhaled. It was so close he could almost taste it.

"Excellent. You'll be able to see your daughter and I can skin myself a crocodile."

 _And save Emma_ he added as an afterthought.

"There's one more thing," she told him.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Hadn't he done enough? "Whatever the lady wishes."

"Mulan and the sleeping princess found some stragglers awhile back. Snow White to be precise.

Ah. Yes. Snow White. The beloved princess, banished and wanted dead awhile back. He knew all about her and how could he not? Regina had scattered thousands of pictures around the Enchanted Forest and other kingdoms at that. You'd have to be blind and deaf not to know who Snow White was. The details on how she ended up getting her castle back became fuzzy for him. Something about a prince and yadda, yadda. The story got somewhat boring, aside from the battle that he had chosen to stay out of. After all, he didn't particular like taking side. He preferred options because no one was entirely good or completely bad. Besides, he found Snow White far more interesting as a bandit.

"Snow White?" Hook asked incredulous. "Wasn't she the whole reason Regina casted the curse to begin with?"

"Yes. Curious that she's returned to the Enchanted Forest don't you think? She's with her daughter and they are looking for the same thing we are."

Killian frowned. He didn't see how this had anything to do with getting to Storybrooke. "And you want me to do what exactly?" He asked quite dully.

"Why Captain. I want you to be my eyes and ears. I want you to gain their trust and learn everything there is to know about this Storybrooke of theirs. If I'm going to be part of Regina's life again, I want to know what I'm getting myself into. I don't like surprises Captain."

Something in her gaze told him that it wasn't a suggestion and he got the nagging feeling that Cora was not one to mess with.

 **xXxXxXx**

 _Bloody hell._

Cora was certainly not one to mess with, and he made a mental note not to piss her off anytime in the near future—or ever for that matter. Heaps of bodies laid around him, all of their hearts unmistakably missing. Cora more than went out of her way to help him gain their trust, though if he had it his way, it would not have gone down like this. He had many other talents, ones that did _not_ involve ripping the hearts out of innocent people. She must think these women incredibly stupid. He scoffed. Snow White certainly wouldn't have survived as a fugitive if she had been so naïve.

So it happened he heard her voice first—or what he imagined her voice to sound like anyway. He'd never actually met her, but it did have that princess-like quality to it, underlined with determination. She and her companions were talking about Cora, the massacre around him, and taking too much time in his opinion to see that there was a survivor—him—among the attack. He wiggled his leg just a tad and when they still didn't see, he let out a loud groan.

Oh _Bloody hell._

They were far too busy crying over Cora to notice him, so he pushed on the plank of wood that covered him with a gentle shove and finally, _finally_ they spotted him.

"Hey… hey…look!"

And just like that, he forgot how to breathe.

Her voice came to him like a dream. It enwrapped him with beautiful memories of her—his love for her. But it couldn't be her. She was supposed to be in this Storybrooke with her son. Yet all the same, he knew that voice. He dreamt of it every night. He dreamt of the day he would hear it again. That was all that this was—a dream—and yet, there was something in her voice that seemed so real, he wondered for a moment, if Cora had ripped his heart out too.

 _Just a dream, Killian. Just a dream. Nothing more._

"Please," he uttered, somehow managing to find his voice. The women quickly pulled him out from under all the damage. "Please help me."

"It's okay. You're safe now. We won't hurt you."

 _Ah. Snow White._

He'd recognize her anywhere. She was just as he expected her to look. Hair as black as ebony, lips as read as rose, skin as white as snow. Though he had to admit that the photo Regina plastered all over the kingdom did not do her justice.

That was when he saw her.

He saw her everywhere, in crowds, in dreams. A glimpse here and there, but then she'd disappear, no more than a wish in his mind. This time, though, she wasn't disappearing and she was staring at him with such a Swan like expression, he had a hard time processing that he had _finally_ found his Swan.

All at once, he found it rather difficult to breathe. _No._ He really couldn't breathe. He gasped, struggling to gain control of his emotions. The fragile one, wearing that stupid dress, rushed immediately to his side, mistaking his emotional pain for something physical. But this wasn't something that could be so easily healed, and one that would never mend. The damage was permanent. There were scars and while they had faded, the memory of her, her death and the pain it brought him, would burn forever in the back of his mind.

He blinked serval times to make sure he was in fact seeing clearly. Emma gave him an odd look and while he knew he was staring, he couldn't take his eyes off her. He needed to know that this wasn't some dream, that this wasn't some cruel nightmare. So when the women helped him to his feet, he made sure to gently brush her hand with his.

He nearly cried out with relief. There she was, standing before him, still beautiful with her blonde hair and green eyes. Emma Swan had been his everything, his oxygen. She was a breath of fresh air. He loved her with every ounce of his being. Until that moment, he hadn't realized how much a part of him was missing. It took all his strength not to throw his arms around her and kiss every part of her. He was finding it extremely difficult to meet her eyes. He feared that if he did, he would tear apart at the seams and everything would come spilling out.

While searching for her, he had continuously reminded himself that Emma would not recognize him when he finally found her. Still, he had not expected it to hurt so much when she looked straight into his eyes and only saw a stranger.

They took him to a table a little ways away and he thanked the Gods that they left him be for a moment. His mind was racing. So many emotions and thoughts were coursing threw him. He had found her. He had finally found her and it was both intoxicating and suffocating all at the same time. He had so many questions he wanted to ask her. For starters, why the hell hadn't she told him she was the daughter of _Snow White and Prince Charming_ or how the bloody hell were they the same age?

"Here you go," Emma said, placing a cup of water in front of him.

They all gathered around him. It took all his strength not to snap at them to leave. He didn't want the others here. He just wanted his Swan. For one split second, it was just him and her. They were having dinner in his cabin. They were together. _They were happy._ That mirage did not last and he quickly came crashing back to reality.

 _Cora._

The thought was almost enough to throw his Swan over his shoulder and take her away from all this. However, he wasn't stupid. He had heard rumors that Snow White never missed a target and he really didn't want to test that theory right now. So he stuck to his original plan because this Emma Swan did not know him. To this Emma, he was a victim of Cora's attack and a victim he would be. He swallowed his misery. He swallowed his pride and stuck to the original plan because, so help him Gods, he couldn't let her get that bean.

 _He couldn't let her die._

"I can't thank you enough for your kindness. Fortune, it seems, has seen fit to show me favor."

"An island full of corpses. You're the only one to escape. How exactly did that happen?"

Ah. His Swan. He had almost forgotten how untrusting she was.

"She attacked at night. Slaughtered everyone in one fell swoop. When she started ripping people's hearts, I hid under the bodies of those who had already been killed, pretended to be dead myself. Mercifully, the ruse worked."

"So much for fortune favoring the brave," she muttered.

A trap, one he would not fall for. He knew her tricks, her ways. God, he loved her.

"It was all I could do to survive," he replied quickly.

She leaned down close to him and rested her arms on the table. He swallowed hard. She was much too close. It pained him knowing all he knew, knowing she could not remember a thing and _wouldn't._ He wouldn't let her die. He had the power to change her fate and he would do exactly that, even if it meant losing her forever. Even if it meant that she would hate him for it because Seven Hells, he loved her and he would do whatever it took to make sure she never ended up in Neverland.

"I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I'm pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to me."

Shit.

He forgot about her little 'superpower.'

She was staring at him with those piercing green eyes of hers, but they weren't the eyes so full of hope and love he had come to know. No. She was staring at him with a look he couldn't quite place. If he didn't know any better, he'd suspect that she didn't believe him.

"I'm telling you the truth," he pleaded with her.

There it was. A smile. Gods, how he had missed that. He held his breath. Had the ruse worked? It was hard to say, but then Snow mentioned something about leaving before Cora returned and he let out a sigh of relief.

"We should start searching for a new portal back to Storybrooke. I only got five minutes with my husband. Not to mention my grandson," Snow White said.

"You have a grandson?"

Henry, he thought. Emma's son, which he supposed made sense. Even knowing all the facts it was hard to wrap his mind around it.

"Long story," Snow White said with a sigh.

"Well I know this land well. I can guide you."

Then his head was yanked back as someone roughly grabbed him by the hair. Before he could even shake off his intruder, he felt the cool steal of a knife against his neck and he froze.

"You're not guiding us anywhere until you tell us who you really are."

Emma.

Bloody hell.

Well, he certainly had not been expecting that and now he knew why she hadn't told him how they met. To say he was angry was an understatement. The princesses have him tied to a tree in record time. He gave the ropes a sharp tug, testing them and frowned. He certainly wouldn't be untying these knots anytime soon. Mulan's doing, and he had to admit she was full of surprises that one.

"I already told you. I'm just a blacksmith," he pleaded, keeping up his ruse as best he could.

"Sure you are."

Emma whistled, surprising him yet again. A roar echoed somewhere out in the distance and his eyes grew wide. She wouldn't just leave him here like this. "You don't want to talk to us? Maybe you'll talk to the ogres while they rip you limb from limb." And yup. There she went. Her back turned to him, her hair swooshing behind her as she waltzed away.

"You…you can't leave me here like this," he cried, hoping that someone would believe him.

As suspected, the fragile one turned back, horror-struck. "What if he's telling the truth?"

"He's not," Emma called over her shoulder.

She wouldn't have left him, he was sure of it. His Swan, no matter how brave and strong-willed she pretended to be would not have left a stranger tied to a tree, left to die. However, another roar broke out in the distance and he really, _really_ didn't want to test his theory at the moment.

"Good for you!" He shouted at her and she halted in her step. Her back was still turned to him, but knowing her, she had a smirk on that beautiful face of hers. Yes. Today he'd let her win. "You bested me. I can count the amount of people who've done that on one hand." Ironically, she was already on that list.

"That supposed to be funny?" She walked back to him, the others following closely behind her. "Who are you?"

The question pierced threw him like a knife and he let out a heavy breath to keep his emotions in check. For a moment, he was tempted to tell the truth, the _whole_ truth, but he could see that _this_ Emma wasn't nearly as trusting as _his_ Emma—not that she had been then so easily either. This Emma, though… she was different. The differences were small but they were there all the same.

"Killian Jones, but most people have taken to calling me by my more colorful moniker—Hook."

"Hook," Snow White echoed. Her eyes grew wide in something he could only describe as fear. Ah. So the rumors _had_ reached her precious Kingdom after all. He couldn't deny any of it. Losing Emma had changed him and he had done a few things he would eventually come to regret.

"Check my satchel"

"As in Captain Hook?" Emma asked, almost annoyed, which somewhat perplexed him.

"Ah, so you've heard of me," he couldn't help the pride seeking its way into his voice. He had to admit, hearing that people from other _realms_ knew your name was quite rewarding.

Another roar. This one shook the ground beneath their feet. "You better hurry up. They're getting closer," his Swan told him quickly. "So unless you want to be dinner, you better start talking.

He let out a breath of disbelief. What else did she want from him? "Cora wanted me to gain your trust so I could learn everything there was to know about your Storybrooke. She didn't want any surprises when she finally got over there."

"She can't get there," Snow cut in. "We destroyed the wardrobe."

"Ah, but the enchantment remains. Cora gathered the ashes. She's going to use them to open a portal."

"Now if you'll kindly cut me loose."

"No," Mulan snapped, pointing her sword at him. He definitely didn't like that one very much. At least the fragile one wanted him alive. "We should leave him here to die to pay for all the lives he took."

Okay. Now he was annoyed that she would even suggest such a thing. He had fallen into the darkness, he'd admit, but he got back on track. And besides, ripping hearts out was a little above his taste, if you asked him. "That was Cora. Not me."

"Let's go."

"Wait! Wait! You need me alive."

"Why?"

 _Why? WHY?_ Of all the people to put a roadblock in his plan, he had never thought it would be Emma herself. But how did he make her believe? How did he make her see that he would go to the end of the world for her? "Because we both want the same thing. To get back to your land."

 _And so I can save your life,_ he thought silently to himself.

"You would say anything to save yourself. Why are we supposed to believe you now?"

"I arranged for transport with Cora, but seeing how resourceful you are, I'll offer you the same deal. I'll help you, if you promise to take me along."

The plan came to him as he spoke and honestly, he already liked this one much better. Not only would he get back to this Storybrooke of theirs, he would also be able to spend time with his Swan in the process. And even if she hated him for it, well, at least he knew that she was alright, that she was _alive._

"How are you going to help us get home?" Snow snapped.

"The ashes will open a portal, but to find your land, she needs more. There's an enchanted compass. Cora seeks it. I'll help you obtain it before she does."

"So Cora won't make it to Storybrooke and we'll be one step closer to getting home."

"Sounds too good to be true," Snow shot back.

He almost told her that he hadn't recalled asking her opinion, but he held his tongue and opted for a safer approach. "There's only one way to find out." He glanced nervously in the direction of the Ogres. They'd be on them soon if they didn't bloody well make up their damn minds already.

His eyes flickered back to Emma and almost smiled in relief. Before she opened her mouth, he knew that he had won her over. Still, she had to make a show of it by pointing her tiny sword at him. "You tell me one thing and whatever you say, I better believe it. Why does Captain Hook want to go to Storybrooke?"

Ah. Tricky. She wouldn't catch him in a lie because he would tell her the truth. Perhaps not the whole truth but the truth nonetheless. "To exact revenge on the man who took my…hand. Rumpelstiltskin."

He was looking forward to it.

 **xXxXxXxXx**

They had been walking for quite sometime—not to mention in circles—before the princesses finally decided to take a break. Once or twice, he thought about pointing them in the right direction, but he knew they wouldn't listen and he took to the idea of spending every waking moment with his Swan. He relished in it—even if she was doing everything in her power to ignore him.

She was standing a couple yards away from him, next to her mother. She had that scowl on her face and he just knew a million thoughts were running through her mind. As much as he wanted to tell her the truth, something told him this Swan would not take to time travel as easily as he had. This Swan seemed exceptionally guarded. From what he gathered, she hadn't been in the Enchanted Forest very long. Every twig that snapped under their feet or critter that jumped out from under a bush, would send her into survival mood. Not to mention, she kept tripping over her feet that one. Even with his wrists bounded, he managed to catch her before she hit the ground.

"Careful love," he whispered, not being able to help himself.

She hardly heard him. She quickly removed herself from his arms, waltzed over to Snow, and that had been the extent of their conversation.

"Don't even think about it."

For the first time since they set foot, Hook shifted his eyes from Emma to the warrior princess. Ah. Mulan. Never missed a thing that one. She stood closes to him, watching his every move. He wanted to tell her to put the sword down, that she was wasting her time and that he wasn't going anywhere—at least not anywhere without his Swan.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about, Sweetheart."

"Watch it, Pirate."

"Yes. We have established that I'm a pirate." He pointed over to the right of them. "I know where the compass is. I can lead you to it," he told her honestly.

Mulan didn't say anything to him. Instead, she directed her attention to the fragile one in the silly dress. Aurora. was it? He wasn't left alone for long though and he was quite pleased to find Emma heading directly his way. She knelt down in front of him and handed him her canteen. He swallowed hard, unable to take his eyes off her. The water burned the back of his throat. Her standing there, so close, unable to say or do _anything_ was driving him insane.

It was too much. All too much.

"What," Emma snapped.

"I'm sorry?" Hook feigned innocence, realizing that he had been caught staring, though not particularly caring either.

"You're staring," she muttered.

He just continued to stare at her, finding himself unable to pull his eyes away from her. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull her in close to him, to fill his thoughts and dreams of her and only her.

A cheeky remark came to mind, but as quickly as it came, it left. He couldn't bring himself to say it because this wasn't like old times. Flirting with her now was different. It hurt too much. A barman once told him that time healed all wounds. How terribly mistaken that barman had been. Time did not heal anything. Time just covered up the wound with scars. But the scasr would never fade completely. It was still there, never gone.

"You remind me of someone," he told her quietly, finally looking away.

As he expected, she built her walls just a tad bit higher, refusing to let him in. Emma gave him the most perplexed look. Surprisingly, she leaned in closer and his breath hitched in the back of his throat.

"That won't work," she told him stubbornly.

"Even if it's the truth?"

"You're lying," she insisted despite herself.

He locked his eyes with hers. They bore into him. This time it was his turn to lean in. "How about that superpower of yours, love? Do you really think I'm telling a lie?"

Emma did search his face just long enough for him to realize that she wasn't _really_ looking at him. No. She was looking through him, like he was a stranger and that hurt much more than any wound. Eventually, he watched her step away from him, without a word. The rest of their walk, he couldn't help but notice that he wasn't the only one sneaking glances.

 **xXxXxXxXx**

After several more moments of arguing, Hook decided that he had enough and heaved himself up off the ground, knowing they would follow him whether they wanted to or not. He hardly made it two feet before all three woman pulled their weapons on him. He rolled his eyes at their dramatics. Finally, after much— _much—_ convincing on his part, they allowed him to lead them the rest of the way to their magic compass.

No one seemed pleased when he stopped a couple yards away from the beanstalk. It shot up towards the sky and extended far above the clouds. Mulan muttered something about death, which he thought was a little dramatic and as Snow White implied, not encouraging at all.

 _Well, the compass awaits. Shall we?_

Then Emma was telling him about a story about some boy named Jack and a beanstalk and he could only balk at her. For a moment, it was just the two of them back on his ship, with her sharing stories from her realm. This realm of her's baffled him, for her stories were complete and utter rubbish. He told her what really happened and she just gawked at him, like it was the most rubbish thing _she_ had ever heard.

"Evil giants…who made magic portal beans? Why doesn't anyone just go up and grow some more?" Emma asked him, a hint of mockery laced within her words.

He frowned at her skepticism and he couldn't help but wonder at what point _this_ Emma Swan became _his_ Emma Swan. After all, she hardly seemed surprised to find herself in Neverland, let alone another realm—or time for that mattered. This Emma Swan was much more guarded and if possible, more untrusting than the one he had come to love.

"Because one giant survived, the strongest and most terrible of them all. And we'll have to get past him to…"

"The magic compass," Snow finished for him.

"Indeed. The treasure remains, and amongst it is the compass. Now it will guide us to your land. Cora has the means to open a portal with the wardrobe ashes, but she can't find your land without the compass." He couldn't help but notice the side-eye glances they were giving each other as he spoke. Honestly, was he really _that_ untrusting? "Once we get it, steal the ashes from her, we're on our way."

Of course, easier said than done. But he did always love a challenge.

"How do we know you're not just using us to get the compass for Cora?" Mulan asked.

"Because you four are far safer company. All I need is a ride back," he told them honestly. Then directing his gaze to Emma and only Emma, he said, "I'll swear allegiance whomever gets me there first

Little did she know, she already had it.

When the princesses did finally decide that Emma would be the one going with him, his heart flipped inside his chest—out of fear or happiness he couldn't tell. Thrilled because he would get to spend more time with his Swan. Horrified that they were most certainly walking into a death trap. That thought alone sent him into a world of hysterics. Suddenly, he was back in his nightmares with Emma dying in his arms, with Rumpelstiltskin crushing her heart into dust.

 _He couldn't let her die._

He focused as best he could. One hand—or hook—in front of the other, doing his best to push out the darkest of thoughts from entering his mind. Emma was okay. _She was okay._ Just one hand in front of the other, he told himself. They were almost there. He had no idea how long they had been climbing for when, once again, his mind took a turn for the worst. All he could think about was Emma losing her grip and falling to her death below.

He paused for a moment to gather his bearings and to calm his racing heart. Emma was okay. She was alive. He glanced down at her, just to make sure. She was concentrating on the branches a few feet below him. She was taking her bloody well time, that was for sure. He wasn't naïve. This Swan hardly trusted him not to throw her off and it pained him that this Swan did not know his true feelings for her.

This was an incredibly stupid idea to let her take the climb with him. So much could and mostly likely would go wrong.

 _He wouldn't let her die._

"First beanstalk?" he asked. Really, anything to get her death off his mind. She paused slightly to give him a startled look, no doubt surprised at the sudden break of silence. "Well, you never forget your first." Her refusing to say anything at all was unnerving. "You know. Most men take your silence as off putting, but I love a challenge."

"I'm concentrating."

Ah. Lie number one.

She couldn't fool him. He knew her too well. "No. You're afraid. You're afraid to talk…to reveal yourself. Trust me. Things would be a lot smoother if you do."

"You should be use to people not trusting you."

"Ah, the pirate thing." He glanced over at her, amused. Perhaps this could be like old times after all. It was certainly starting to feel that way. She had started to climb a little faster now. He could tell he was getting to her and he couldn't help but grin. "Well. I don't need you to share. You're something of an open book."

She came to a dead stop beside him.

"Am I?" she asked, curious.

He stopped too, catching his breath. "Quite. Let's see. You volunteered to come up here because you were most motivated. You need to get back to a child." In hindsight, it wasn't really fair, considering she had already told him these things—or would tell him these things in the future.

"That's not perception. That's eavesdropping," she shot back quickly.

"Ah, but you don't want to abandon him the way you were abandoned." It was out before he could think twice. He almost regretted them too, seeing the hurt that flashed across her features the way it had.

He was kidding himself, believing that he would have been able to separate this Emma and _his_ Emma. She was the same person, after all, and he couldn't fathom a world without her in it.

"Was I?" she asked him quietly, surprising again yet him.

"Like I said, open book."

"How would you know that?"

 _Because you told me yourself, Love._

He directed his gaze away from her and pretended to decipher how much further they had left to climb. In reality, he just didn't want her to catch him in a lie. "I spent years in Neverland. Home of the Lost Boys. They all share the same look in their eyes. The look you get when you've been left alone."

"Yeah. Well, my world ain't Neverland."

"An orphan's an orphan."

He crossed a line, he knew, but he couldn't stop. He wanted to break down her walls, if not more so than he had in Neverland.

"Love's been all too rare in your life, hasn't it?" he shot back.

He wished, more than anything, he could show her the life they had shared together, but this was—and would remain—nothing more than a distant dream. This Emma Swan shared no memories of their nights together. This Emma Swan still belonged to someone else.

"Have you ever been in love?" he asked, because he wanted to know who still had her heart.

"No. I have never been in love."

For someone incredibly good at catching a lie, she was truly awful at giving one.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: To the Guest who thought I had stopped updating, I am happy you have enjoyed this story enough to be concerned that I will not finish it. While not the best "form," I admit, I do suppose updating late, is better than not updating at all?**

 **To my other readers, I apologize to all of you for not updating soon/regularly. Life got in the way, preventing me from finding time to write. Rest assured,** **I will finish this story.** **Whether that's a week from now or months, I do not know.**

 **Also heads up, I won't be able to update this until** ** _January_** **due to traveling, holidays and work.**

 **Yours truly!**

 **Hope you enjoy**

 **Chapter 17**

 _I can't take the chance that I'm wrong about you_

His hand slipped. His stomach dropped. For one heart stopping moment, he slid a good three feet down the beanstalk before coming to his senses. He drove his hook into a vine and came to a halt. A bird chirped by him, oblivious to his inner turmoil. The sun was just beginning to set over the horizon. A sight to behold and no one to share it with.

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

The trees were still no more than specks of dots on one giant canvas. The fall would have surely killed him—a passing thought that was honestly growing more fondly with each passing day. However, wanting to die and actually dying had their differences all the same, and you never quite knew how much you _didn't_ want to die until death was staring you straight in the face.

Killian closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. He couldn't concentrate on anything but the series of events that had lead Emma Swan to leave him handcuffed in a Giant's lair.

 _I can't take the chance that I'm wrong about you_

Emma's words echoed loudly inside his head. He had gained her trust, he was sure of it, and yet she had left him there.

 _I can't take the chance that I'm wrong about you_

And she did trust him, he realized, which was the exact reason she had left him up there in the first place. He had done the same to her when they first met in Neverland, hadn't he? He thought she had been working with Pan, so he locked her right up in that cell, no questions asked. Seven Hells, he hardly listened to her side of the story because women simply did not fall into Neverland. Oh, how the tables had turned and it was her turn to suspect he was working for the villain.

He didn't blame her.

Unlike her, he had been working for the villain, but that had changed the moment she stepped foot back into his life. _If she would have bloody well told him how they met then all of this could have been avoided._

He wouldn't have spent decades trying to find a passage to this Storybrooke of hers, he could have just waited around, until the time came and drank himself into oblivion.

Perhaps that was the exact reason she didn't tell him.

Oh, Emma.

Despite understanding her reasoning for leaving him up there the way she had, it still hurt. He told her things. He let his heart get the best of him and he had forgotten his plan—or rather, he chose to forget because the longer he spent with her, the harder it became for him to get her to hate him. That was the plan. Always had been. If Emma Swan was to forget their time in Neverland together, he figured it would be easier if Emma wanted nothing to do with him. But the more time he spent with her, the harder he found it to hold onto that plan.

He found himself yearning for what could have been and when he saw that she had cut her hand, he couldn't help himself.

 _"_ _Your hand—it's cut. Let me help you."_

You missed the strangest things when you lost someone. Small things. Smiles. The smell of their hair. The look she gave him when she thought he was talking complete nonsense.

The moment he touched her hand, he realized his mistake. Memories of them together quickly plagued his mind and the joy of those memories, made his heart ache. Emma Swan was color. She was a spectrum of everything he had. His heart felt full again and it was an incredibly wonderful feeling.

He could still feel her eyes on him. He had done his best to draw out the moment, just long enough for him to ingrain it in the back of his mind. As he mended her hand with his scarf, he realized that he wanted to stand by her side for the rest of his life.

If it were only that simple.

 _"_ _Who's Milah?"_

He had pulled his arm away and quickly pulled down his sleeve down. If she would have caught his other arm, she would have seen the black ink of a Swan tattooed on his arm. Yes, he had loved Milah, but not like her.

 _Not like her._

Neverland had been nothing more than a façade, so neither of them had to face reality. And he had relished in it too. They both had. In Neverland there was always enough time to do things. Time to says things. And now that he had no time left, he was only left with "what could have beens" and "what ifs."

He glanced around, then to the ground below. Perhaps this was all just that. A dream. Perhaps if he let go right now, he would fall and wake up from this nightmare or better yet, perhaps he really was awake. Perhaps the fall would kill him. He had lived his whole life as if death did not exist. He was good at surviving, though what was the point if those you loved wouldn't be around to share those lifetimes with?

It would be easy to let go and fall to his imminent death. But he had come this far and he couldn't let her fall through the portal that would take her to Neverland. He couldn't let Rumpelstiltskin kill her. His hand clutched at the magic bean around his neck. Anton had given it to him. (who by the way, had turned out to be far better company than he ever could have imagined). He knew a magic bean had taken Emma to Neverland, he just didn't know _which_ magic bean. Magic beans were rare, though. What were the odds of Emma coming across another one in their lifetime? Some people searched for one their whole lives, so this _had to be the magic bean._ Still, he had come this far. He had to be sure of it.

 _I can't take the chance that I'm wrong about you._

It physically hurt. Everything hurt. But he kept on going, even knowing that she would forget him in time and that it would haunt him for the rest of his life, he kept on going. Even when the sun disappeared behind the hills tops and the moon rose high into the sky, he kept on going. Even when he hardly had two feet on the ground and a familiar voice greeted him from behind, he somehow found the strength to just keep on going.

"My dear Captain it seems you've been on quite the adventure. The compass please."

Cora.

Killian closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before slowly turning around to greet her. It didn't surprise him that Cora was waiting there for him. In fact, it was almost predictable and really, he wouldn't have expected anything less of her. There she was, black dress, red lips and all. An amused smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, as if she knew something he didn't, and he wondered if she was enjoying the idea of ripping his heart out.

"Yes…that…well. Matters grew complicated. It eluded me for the moment. The details of the affair are a bit of a bore."

"Really? Stealing my protection spell and climbing the beanstalk without me might seem like a bore to you. But to me, it's a betrayal."

Ah, and here he thought, she'd greet him with sunshine and roses.

"I was going to bring it to you," he told her, lying straight through his teeth. He was thankful that Cora was not one to so easily spot a lie. "Our agreement remains. We are going to Storybrooke together. I'll get it back."

Honestly, by the time he was done explaining himself, he was much more angry than anything else. For a moment, he almost wanted her to take out his heart and crush it. Only then could he finally put his pain to rest. But then suddenly Cora was telling him she was going to leave him here instead of killing him and just like that, the ball was in her court. The fear quickly seeped back into his frozen heart. He had spent way too long searching for Emma for Cora to stand in his way. He would not let anyone prevent him from saving her.

"Who was it that bested you?"

Killian glanced away. Cora knew. She just wanted him to say it. She wanted to humiliate him, though he wouldn't catch the bait. And if she would have truly known him, she would have known that he would have considered it an _honor_ that Emma Swan had bested him.

"You chose her and the consequences of that decision."

Now he was just annoyed. See, he too didn't have time for games. He too had crossed through too many worlds to be brought short of the brink of success.

"Ooh? Are you going to kill me now? Go ahead. Try."

Cora, thankfully, didn't want to kill him. At least, not today anyway. She threatened to leave him there, not that he would have minded. She was, after all, not the best of company. But he wasn't naïve either. Cora was after the compass, the compass that _Emma_ had taken. He hadn't come all this way to save her from Rumpelstiltskin, only to have Cora crush her heart. So he meddled up some more lies, fumbling for something, anything really, to make her believe that she truly needed him to get back to Storybrooke. But Cora wasn't listening and before he could drive his hook into her heart, she puffed herself away in a ridiculous cloud of purple smoke.

 **xXxXxXxXx**

 _Bloody hell._

He was _really_ going to regret this.

It was a strange feeling to hold the heart of another, one that especially didn't belong to you, in the palm of your hand. But he knew he had to change Cora's mind somehow and he didn't know what else would impress the Queen of Hearts other than a heart itself. Aurora, unfortunately for her sake, was just a convenience. Her heart weighed heavily in his hand. All he could think about was the feel of the Crocodile's claw on his own heart. For a moment, he thought about giving it back. He had no intention to hurt her though, or let Cora hurt her for that matter. Aurora would be fine, he told himself. She was just a pawn in this wicked, wicked game.

So he shook her awake before he could change his mind. "Wake up. Come on, luv. Wake up." This went on for several more minutes before she stirred in the slightest. Seven Hells, she was a heavy sleeper. When she did finally come to it and realize that she wasn't where she was supposed to be, her eyes grew wide with fear. He quickly pulled her to her feet before she could process that she wasn't, in fact, dreaming.

"No! No!" Aurora screamed at him, pulling away from him with much more strength than he ever would have given her credit for. "No! Are you going to kill me?"

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. She was really starting to make him second this master plan of his. "If I were here for that, then waking you first might not be the best course of action." Before she could react, he threw his hook down to break the cuffs that bounded her.

She screamed all the same. "So what, did Cora send you?

Even after he had physically freed her, she was still second guessing him. "Cora has no idea I'm here," he told her, incredibly bored now.

"I…I don't understand."

"Look, I know you're sleepy, isn't it obvious. I'm setting you free."

"What is this? Some sort of pirate's ruse?"

"Cora's denied me passage to Storybrooke and my vengeance, and now I'm going to deny her, her wishes. Starting with the compass. In pirate terms you might say I'm firing a shot across my enemy's bow."

"You'd risk your life to break in here, all so you could thwart Cora?"

Huh. Well, she did have a point there. "I don't like being double-crossed. Now go."

"Thank you," she whispered, finally accepting that he was in fact, setting her free.

He was honestly going to let her go. He really was, but Emma Swan was still on his mind and he couldn't get her out of it. He caught Aurora's wrist before she could reach the door.

"You can thank me by doing me one favor."

"What?"

"Give Emma a message. Tell her that the deal still stands. If she provides me passage back to her realm, I swear I will help her find that dust that opens the portal." Even with Aurora's heart tucked safe away in his satchel, he still had hope, what little was left of it, that he and Emma could live the life he had always imagined for the two of them. He had to have hope because it was the only thing that kept him going—even if it was nothing more than a dream.

"You really want to assist us?"

He wasn't sure about _us,_ though he found little point in arguing with her. "It hurts Cora and helps me. Of course I do. Now go!"

 **xXxXxXxXx**

 _"_ _Impressive," Cora had admitted after it was all said and done. "You took a heart."_

He hated himself just a little bit more because of it. Killian watched the four of them from the shadows of the cave. He would never forgive himself for what he was about to do. But he had the magic bean now. While the others searched every nook and cranny of the cell, Emma sat on the floor, intently studying something the Crocodile had scribbled. Rubbish no doubt.

 _He was obsessed with you Emma. You were the key to breaking the curse._

He didn't fully understand why the Crocodile would have been so obsessed with Emma decades after he had killed her in Neverland. He couldn't help but wonder at the irony of it all. In Neverland, the Crocodile must not have known who she was. After all, it had been decades ago, before Regina herself was even born. She had been no more than face, a face of many, that Rumpelstiltskin had killed over the years. Killian clutched his hand into a fist, his knuckles turning white. After the night was through, Emma would be saved, he'd be on his way to Storybrooke to crush the Crocodile's heart, and then he could finally be at peace.

The clang of the cage falling down, locking the princesses in, caught his attention. The women raced to the bars, but it was of no use. Even Rumpelstiltskin could not escape that cell. Still, as Emma shook the cage to no avail, he turned his head, unable to watch.

"Thank you, Aurora. We couldn't have done it without you," Cora told them and Killian huffed at the low blow. It didn't take any of them long to accuse Aurora. "Don't blame her," Cora said, a smile on her red lips. She then pulled Aurora's heart. "She was only doing what she was told."

"You took her heart?" Emma asked in disbelief.

That was his queue.

"Actually I did," he said, his voice sounding incredibly monotone. "It was a gift."

He had rehearsed the words a million times and still, it did not feel natural. Emma would never forgive him for this, he knew. He could feel his heart cracking on the very fault line that had been broken more times than he could count. There was no coming back after this. You could mend a heart, but you couldn't heal it completely, and after the night was through, he doubted he would find the strength to mend it again.

"Forgive us. We'd love to stay, but Storybrooke awaits."

Cora turned her back to the ladies. He did the same, unable to find the courage to look at his Swan, locked behind bars. But Emma had other plans and her voice rung out, calling him back to her. His mind told him to go, but his heart had other ideas and he turned on her command.

"Hook! Wait."

 _So close._

"Please don't do this. My son is in Storybrooke and he needs me."

Her eyes were pleading with him and he wanted to let her out. He did. _Oh Gods, he really did._ But if he did, Emma would get the compass, she would take the magic bean and she would fall back into Neverland. He couldn't let her die.

"Perhaps you should have considered that before you abandoned me on that beanstalk."

"You would have done the same."

"Actually no," he told her honestly and she looked away, ashamed to see that he was telling the truth. Now for the big finish. "Do you know what this is Emma?" He pulled out the bean, dangled it front of her face, all for show because he needed her to hate him with every ounce of her being. He needed her to want nothing to do with him.

"A magic bean the giant kept," she whispered.

Before she could snatch it from his hand, he pulled it away from her grip. "Yes indeed. A pirate always keeps a souvenir of his conquest, but this is much more than a mere trinket." _This will save her life. This will save her life._ "This is a symbol. Something that was once magical and full of hope." Their love for each other, he thought, and now he had to crush that dream. He had to make her hate him and he had to make her believe it. He had to ensure she never got that damn bean.

"Now look at it. Dried up. Dead. Useless."

His heart twisted painfully inside his chest as the words fell from his lips. Now for the big finish and all this would be over.

"Much like you," he whispered, unable to manage anything more than that. "Time for making deals is done just as I'm done with you."

 _He didn't mean it. He didn't mean it._

He turned away quickly so she wouldn't see how much his hand was shaking or see the anguish in his eyes. If she really looked, she would have caught the lie behind his words and that in reality, he was not okay at all, but horribly empty. But when you loved someone, you did everything in your power to keep them safe. Even if it meant the impossible, no matter how messed up, how inconceivable those needs were. Even if it meant ripping yourself into pieces. Even if it meant they would hate you forever.

 **xXxXxXxXx**

Killian had spent the last couple of hours going over the words in his head. He kept repeating them, over and over again. _Dried up. Dead. Useless._ His last words to her. _Dried up. Dead. Useless._ His heart twisted in his chest. _I'm done with you._ But that wasn't true, now was it? It had been decades since she died, but not a day went by that he didn't turn his head to the side, almost expecting her to be right there.

He would and could never be done with his Swan. She was a part of him now the same way that blood ran through his veins or the way he needed air to breathe. You could never truly stop loving someone, just like you couldn't simply forget them either. A piece of her would always be there.

And she could be there, he told himself.

Perhaps not by his side, but by someone's side because she'd be alive. Killian rarely did anything without a purpose. Helping Cora was no more than a move on a chessboard. Emma Swan would never fall into Neverland. Emma Swan was safe and alive. She may be behind bars, but at least she would be alive. Now, just for one final task…

"I told you I would deliver you to Rumpelstiltskin."

He glanced at Cora, nearly forgetting she was there. He felt numb. His head was swimming with memories of Emma—of them—and they were blaring in his head, so loudly he could hardly hear the roaring water at his feet. He glanced at the portal, a swirling, vortex of doom.

He had just one more task and then he could finally put this journey to rest.

 _Rumpelstiltskin._

He was going to enjoy it.

He was just about ready to jump when an arrow knocked the compass right from his hand. It shouldn't have surprised him to find Swan, Mulan and Snow, standing across from them, ready for a fight.

"You're not going anywhere! This portal's taking us home!"

He smirked, noting that Emma more than went out of her way to get to him first. She raced by Cora, sword flying and arms flinging about. He threw up his sword to block her blow and frowned. Her form was just awful and he wondered how in Seven Hells she lasted this long. She had definitely picked up a trick or two when he practiced with her in Neverland. Honestly, this was just sad considering how much effort Snow White and Mulan were putting into things. With little effort, he disarmed his Swan and sent her sword flying in the opposite direction.

 _First lesson, love. Keep your mind focused on the fight,_ He was about to tell her when she decided to throw herself at him.

 _Oh, bloody hell._

Killian stepped to side, sending her to the ground yet again. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could handle. Yeah, it was a great show for Cora and fun for him because Emma was there (even if she didn't quite see it that way). Before Emma could scramble for her sword, he grabbed her foot and dragged her away from the portal. While he was pretty certain this portal would take her back to Storybrooke, and not Neverland, he wasn't taking any chances.

Then Cora had to go and disappear in a puff of purple smoke and Aurora's heart had to go soaring though the air, which was all just enough to grab his attention. He made the decision in a split second, bending backwards to reach it. The strap caught his hook—barely. Thankfully, Emma's weight kept him from toppling back into the pit of evil. When he righted himself, he released Emma's leg to throw Aurora's heart back to Mulan…who just stood there, staring at him with a dumbfounded expression.

"I may be a pirate, but I bristle at the thought of a woman losing her heart—unless it's over me." A lame attempt to explain himself indeed, though he liked to think this remedied his early actions.

Still, Mulan just stood there. Honestly, if she would just stop staring at the damn thing, she would have been halfway to that princess of hers by now. In the end, it was Snow's words of rubbish that had her sprinting towards the forest.

"I had no idea you had such a soft side," Emma taunted him, doing her best to mirror his stance.

"I don't. I just like a fair fight," he told her honestly, and he meant it too, so he took the first swing this time. Only fair, after all, since she came at him the last. Emma blocked his sword, just barely. He had to admit, Emma was a quick learner. He glanced down, noting her foot awfully close to his.

Well, almost, a quick learner.

"Good form," he said, as he used his hook to slide her foot up towards his thigh. "But not good enough." Again, he sent her to the ground. Seeing her there, laying on the ground, hair strung out around her, his mind flashed to a different sitting and suddenly it was just them, back on his ship in Neverland. He couldn't help himself. He slid his hook down her sword, braced against his, very similar to the way he had back on the Jolly Roger.

"Normally, I would prefer to do other, more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back." Though unlike Neverland, he was actually going to finish that line. "With my life on the line you've left me no choice. A bit of advice? When I jab you with my sword, you'll feel it. You might want to quit."

He glanced at the vortex, wondering if he could manage to roll them both into it. If Emma Swan wanted to jump into a swirling vortex of doom, then he was jumping right in after her.

But Emma had other plans, naturally. "Why would I do that when I'm winning?"

She held up the compass and he was so taken aback, he hardly had time to process her kicking him off her. He stumbled backwards, nearly tripping on his own two feet when she took a swing at him. He managed to block it, though her newfound strength surprised him. A million thoughts ran through his head. He had the bean. Emma was safe, even if she did manage to get through that portal, she would fall back into Storybrooke, not Neverland. Still, he couldn't let her best him… not again.

 _Seven Hells_

"Thanks!"

And then everything went black

 **xXxXxXxXx**

There wasn't one specific element that startled Killian from the false sanctuary of a dreamless sleep. Instead, it was a combination of outside influences; like the strangeness of an all too familiar mattress, the familiar sounds of a ship swaying against the ocean waves and the all too familiar smell of the sea.

When Killian finally came to it, he awoke to a strange sensation. He awoke to no excruciating headache or the utter sense of loss, but the strange feeling of peace—something he had not felt in an awfully long time and as his eyes and senses fully adjusted, it didn't take him long to realize that he was finally home. Despite the logistics of it, he chose to forget the shards of memories of how he had ended back up on the Jolly Roger.

He threw his legs over the side of the bed and made his way outside. The moment he saw her, he knew.

This was a dream and nothing more.

She was standing at the far end of the ship, staring out into the distance. The waters extended far beyond their eye of sight. Killian waited to make his presence known, but only long enough to determine what kind of dream this was. It seemed pleasant enough, though he had learned a long time ago that things were never as they seemed.

Then she turned to him and his voice caught in the back of his throat. He saw her everyday. At the market, at the pub. She was always here and there, a passing face among the crowd and when he would look back, he'd come to the cold realization that she had been nothing more than a whisper in the night. And yet, Emma stood there facing him, tears glistening in her eyes. Only when he caught sight of her ring—his ring—placed against her heart, did he let a calmness wash over him.

"Emma?" he whispered quietly, afraid that with once misplaced breath, she would disappear. He closed the distance between them until his knees were practically touching hers, until he could feel her breath on his cheek. Very carefully, he bought a shaking hand to touch her face. "Is it really you?"

"It's really me," she confirmed. She leaned into him and he choked on a sob, unashamed to let her see.

He had spent too long fighting, too long waiting for this moment—even if it all was a dream…or so he thought. At this point, though, he hardly cared if he was dead or not. He pulled her in close, filling himself with the scent of her and only her. He held her close, afraid to let go. He hadn't known before, hadn't fully understood just how much his existence depended on hers. Her essence was that fragile in his mind, that vulnerable. One misplaced breath and his dream would shatter and he would be left with nothing.

Emma leaned back slightly to look up at him. She had a peculiar expression on her face, a hopeful one he'd sometimes witness when he caught her staring unaware.

"What is it, love?" he asked her.

"It's just… I feel like I'm forgetting something."

"But?"

Emma bit her lip, the way she often did when something was troubling her. "I can't remember… It must not have been important." She whispered, as he traced the outline of her lip with his thumb.

Hook gave her a weak smile. Then pushing his luck, he leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. It was sweet at first. Perfect and everything that a kiss between lovers should be. But it had been so long since he last kissed her that it didn't take long or much effort before the kiss grew deeper, hungrier. Before she could pull back, he bent down to grab her around the waist. Emma didn't protest. She simply wrapped her legs around his waist and let him carry her to his cabin.

If they would have taken a moment to stop and think, they would have come to the realization that this was a dream, nothing more. The logistics of everything were off. They were the only ones on the ship for starters. The moon was too bright, the temperature was just right and the water was too blue. Everything was breathtakingly perfect. Killian knew she wasn't real, that this was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, but he needed her more now than he had ever needed her before.

And she _felt_ real.

In his other dreams, he would brushed his hand with hers, only to feel nothing but air. He'd kiss her, only to wake up the moment his lips touched hers. This dream though was different, almost as if she was really there with him, and he was perfectly okay with riding this one out for as long as it could last.

So he laid her on his bed and she let him undress her under the beams of silver moonlight, leaving her in nothing but the ring he had given her. He kissed his way down her stomach, down to her ankles and then slowly back up. He wanted to kiss every inch of her, to memorize every feature, every nook and crevasse.

So he dove in to taste her and it was perfect. _She_ was perfect.

Emma moaned and arched from under him. He did this until she came undone around him and he was positive it was the most beautiful thing he had ever witnessed. She was still panting when he kissed his way back up to her lips. Even when they met each other's gaze, they said nothing and it was perfect like that because sometimes, words were better left unsaid.

Emma answered his silent plea with a kiss before she guided him towards her center. They both sighed in content when he entered her and he was overcome with a whirlwind of emotions, many of which he hadn't felt for quite sometime. Her hand settled at the base of his neck, and he buried his head into the crook of hers. They moved together as one, her hips rising to meet his thrusts. When they came together, stars, quite literally, exploded around them. Emma's magic filled the room, lighting it with hues of golds and whites. He had never known his heart could feel so full. If he could have, he would have wanted to stay in that dream forever.

When he was finished, he pulled away just long enough to look her in the eye, to memorize every feature, everything that made her his Swan. He feared that if he had truly changed the course of their future, then his memories of her would fade away, that he too would forget Neverland.

"You're shaking," she whispered as she traced the outline of his face with her fingers.

He chuckled, unsteady and relieved all the same. "I never want to forget this." He took her hand in his and kissed the tips of her fingers before gently rolling off her. She pillowed against him, tracing lazy circles over his chest.

"How long has it been?" she asked him after a moment.

"Decades."

She was silent for an awfully long time, before she finally said, "Its been that long for you?"

Killian swallowed the lump in his throat. Immediately, every awful thing he had said and done the last couple days hit him all at once. He heaved himself up, Emma falling from his grasp. "Emma… the things I said to you…" He ran his hand through his hair, gripping until his knuckles turned white. "Oh Gods…can you ever forgive me?"

"It's okay, Killian," but her voice cracked, telling him that it wasn't okay. Not at all.

"No. No it's not. You don't understand. I _had_ to say and do everything I did." He turned to her then, so she could see that he was telling her the truth. "So you could live."

He understood now. This dream was a sign. A sign that he had succeed in saving her. And just like that, he came undone, spilling out at the seams. He told her everything—what happened after Rumpelstiltskin crushed her heart, his plan to change their futures, so she would never fall into Neverland, so she wouldn't have to die at the hands of the Crocodile. As he spoke, something seemed to register in her eyes. She glanced around, suddenly frantic of her surroundings.

"Wait…Killian. Slow down… I know what I was forgetting before. _I remember._ "

The atmosphere magically changed around them, like the casting of a potent Wicca spell. The sound of rain began to tap at the window, the first sign of a storm beginning to brew.

But he didn't hear her. Instead, he held up the magic bean Anton the Giant had given him, which safely hung from around his neck. "I took this from the giant. I found the bean so you would never fall into Neverland, so you won't die."

"The bean the giant gave you?" Emma asked.

He nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat, fearing whatever she had to say next.

Emma frowned. "What? Killian that's not the bean that took me to Neverland—"

His heart fell inside his chest. "What do you mean?"

"It was a bean that Tamara had—"

"Who's Tamara?" he asked, though he vaguely remembered her telling him about this woman before.

"Killian!" she shouted at him, grabbing his shoulders. "That's beside the point!" Emma glanced down at her hands, as if questioning her very existence. "Regina…" she whispered. When she glanced back up at him, her eyes were wide with fear. "She said I might not realize this was a dream at first… Oh God."

 _Regina. Bloody hell. What did Regina have to do with this._

"Emma," he whispered, reaching for her. She leaned back, nearly toppling out of the bed in the process. He scrambled to reach out and pull her back to him, but she kept her arms out to keep him at a distance. She was the only thing keeping his sanity in place. If he lost her now, then he would lose himself and there would be no coming back. Not this time.

"Killian. You have to listen to me. We are dreaming," she told him desperately.

As their panic swept in as one, hitting them both at full force, the dream shook around them.

 _No. Not yet._

Killian grabbed her hand. It did little to stop the trembling of the walls, the shaking of the ground beneath their feet. The wind grew louder, the rain grew heavier. He knew they didn't have much time.

"I know," he said, as if it were obvious. Killian rarely did anything without a purpose. He believed dreams were an awakening of sorts, something yet unseen or undone. And if dream Emma had come to tell him that he had the _wrong bloody magic bean_ then may the Gods have mercy on his soul.

"No. You don't understand…This isn't a dream. _I'm alive."_

"I don't under—"

All at once, the dream collapsed in on itself—a tidal wave of water and debris, hitting them at full force. Killian awoke with a sudden jolt, only to find Cora, and not Emma standing across from him.

"It's about time you woke up," Cora snapped at him.

He took in his surroundings breathing heavily and doing everything in his power to calm his racing heart. He could feel the weight of Emma's hand in hers and the memory of it burned in the back of his mind. It had felt so real.

 _"_ _It was a bean that Tamara had."_

Emma's words echoed loudly in his head. Killian closed his eyes and let out sigh. A sign, he thought. The dream had been a sign. Against all odds, this was not the magic bean that took Emma to Neverland.

"We failed," Cora told him, her voiced uncharacteristically laced with the sound of defeat.

He couldn't have agreed more, but he did always like keeping his options open. While he wasn't particularly fond of Cora joining him to Storybrooke, he saw no other way of bringing the bean to life without her help.

Killian sighed and pulled out the dried up bean. "Really, Cora. After all this time why do you still doubt me?"

One way or another he was getting to Storybrooke.

Even if it killed him.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: First off, thank you to all who reviewed! Secondly, I h** **ope everyone had a good holiday and a happy new year!**

 **Chapter 18**

 **Present**

Three days. Three _full_ days since Regina had used a healing spell to stitch up her wound, leaving nothing but a scar. Three full days since Dr. Whale had released her from the hospital. Three full days since Emma had yet to hear about Killian's whereabouts. Three full days of sideways glances, looks of pity and concern. Three full days of words left unsaid.

Her parents were the worst.

They kept hovering around her, as if she would shatter into a million pieces if they got too close or said something they thought would make her run for the hills. Snow in particular, would not so casually bring up Hook, promptly questioning Neverland out of the blue. Emma opened up very little, knowing her mother would not approve and knowing that David would most certainly kill Hook on sight if he knew _exactly_ what went down between them in Neverland.

But dear God, they wouldn't stop worrying. So she told them what they needed to hear—that she was in Neverland far longer than the three days she was missing here. That time moved differently in Neverland. That there was more to Hook than what met the eye. That it was a sword that had nearly killed her.

She just left out the part that it was Hook's sword to have done the deed at Rumpelstiltskin's command. In fact, she left out Rumpelstiltskin altogether, knowing all too well that David would go off running into a battle—one that most certainly would get himself killed. She also left out Neal, whom she had been avoiding.

Emma grazed her hand over a small, white line that sat raised above the surface of her skin. It still hurt and her breath hitched in the back of her throat when her fingers grazed across it. Thanks to Regina, magic had sped up the healing process, though the scar had yet to fade away completely and Emma doubted that it ever would. That was the thing about scars. They never went away completely. There was always something left behind, as you were never quite the same after the fall. The barely visible mark now just served as a reminder of how painful the memory had been.

Those memories plagued her. They haunted her dreams. She could still picture his face when he drove the sword through her heart. She could still hear his cries, begging her to come back to him and she had wanted to. Oh, God. She did not want to leave him there like that. So on the nights she dreamed, she'd awake in a cold sweat, sobbing his name. It was nights like these when she'd find herself scrubbing her hands. _Scrubbing._ Despite the pain from literally scrubbing her hands raw, she couldn't stop because she had to get the blood off.

But it wouldn't go away.

Under her nails, in between her fingers, on the back of her palms. It was there. It was permanent and no matter how hard she tried, she could not wash away the pain. On those nights, she relived what should have been her death, she'd wake up and wash the imaginary blood from her hands under her fingers went numb.

 _Scrubbing._

This was probably how she found herself cradling her third cup of coffee by seven on a Saturday morning.

"Emma?" Hating herself, she jumped. Snow approached her quietly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Couldn't sleep?" her mother asked again, this time more timidly.

Admitting that, would mean admitting something was wrong and Emma refused to catch the bait. "Guess I'm still jet lagged," she told her mother jokingly, which just earned her another confused stare. "I'm fine," she clarified but she wasn't. Not really.

In reality, she was empty. An empty shell. A husk.

Snow nodded. Emma wondered if her mother had given up trying to get to the bottom of it all.

"I was thinking of asking Neal over for dinner," Snow told her and she nearly choked on her coffee.

Well, she hadn't been expecting that.

Neal. How was Neal? She wasn't sure because she had been avoiding him along with everyone else in this damn town. It shouldn't have surprised her honestly. She knew that her parents had this wonderful idea of Neal and her living happily ever after. But here was the thing, she didn't grow up wishing upon stars or with fairy godmothers to grant her heart's desire. She grew up in foster care where dreams were just that. Dreams.

"Neal? What. Why would you do that?"

Snow gave her a look that screamed _really._ "I don't know, Emma. Perhaps because we are _worried about you,_ " Snow practically screamed—a reaction, so uncommon of her, mother, Emma could only stare. Then Snow was standing directly in front of her and placing both hands on her shoulders. Emma fought the urge to pull away. "Emma. Please let us in. We can help you."

"Your mother's right," came an all too familiar voice from behind.

Emma didn't need to turn around to see that David was standing directly behind them, giving her a look that mirrored Snow's. She had seen enough of their pitying glances to last a lifetime. She wondered how long they had planned this little intervention. She wondered how long they had watched her pace across the living room, doing everything in her power to stay awake. She wondered if they had seen her try to wash the invisible blood from her hands.

As much as she wanted to tell them, she couldn't bring the words to life. Despite that they were her parents, she couldn't change the fact that they were the _same_ age. They had lived the same amount of years, had the same experience. _They were the same age and they were her parents._ It boggled her mind, a concept she wasn't sure if she'd ever get use to. Her whole life she had wanted parents to comfort her, and now that her wish had finally been granted, she only had one reaction:

Run.

Her voice caught in the back of her throat. Her stomach trembled beneath her skin. She needed to get out and she needed to get out now.

"Emma. Sweetheart. _Please."_

 _"_ _Talk to us."_

"I…"

"Morning!"

The three of them turned, the conversation dying its own death and the tension of everything left unsaid filled the room like a balloon, making it rather difficult to breathe. Henry skipped down the stairs, shooting straight towards the fridge to pour himself a glass of orange juice.

Snow immediately stepped away from her daughter and David let out a heavy sigh. Emma sighed in relief and a weight she hadn't noticed before lifted off her shoulders. She loved Henry's impeccable timing. Another minute and she would have come apart at the seams.

"Everything okay…?" Henry asked, sensing he had just walked in on something he shouldn't have.

"Everything's great, kid," Emma told him, forcing a smile. David and Snow forced ones too.

Henry, oblivious, to the tension in the room, jumped up on the bar stool and dove into his bowl of Lucky Charms. "I had the best dream," Henry told them, quickly launching into a story about a knight and a dragon. As he shared the dream, Emma's mind began to wander.

Neverland.

It was like the whole thing had been one giant dream and she feared that perhaps that was all it had been. Her hand shot to Killian's ring, still placed against her heart. _It was real._ She would find him. She didn't know where to look or where to even begin looking, but she would find him.

She would always find him.

" _It felt so real!"_ Henry finished, breaking her thoughts, which was when the lightbulb went off in her head.

"Henry!" Emma jumped in, cutting him off. "Let's go for a walk. What do you say? It's nice enough for a walk, right?"

"It's below freezing," Henry told her flatly. He glanced at Snow and David, who were just giving her that perplexed, concerned expression of theirs.

"Soooo…bring a jacket," Emma told him. "Let's go."

"Right now?"

"Right now," Emma assured him quickly, and before anyone ask what the hell had gotten into her, she headed towards the door. "Get your coat."

Henry jumped off the stool, no questions asked.

"Emma—" her mother began, but Emma cut her off.

"I'm fine. We will be back in a little while. I just need some air." When she could see they weren't buying it, she added meekly, "Honestly."

Surprisingly, they let her go. Emma knew better than anyone that sometimes when you didn't ask questions, it was because you didn't want them to tell you the truth.

"What's going on Mom?" Henry asked once they were outside. Henry had been right earlier. It was freezing—one of those days when the wind blew, your breath caught in your chest and for a moment, it felt like you couldn't breathe.

"I'm taking you to Regina's?" Emma told him honestly.

Henry's face fell. "Oh?"

Emma came to a halt, his disappointment piercing her like a bullet. "What do you say for another one of those operations of yours? We haven't had one in a while."

"Yeah. I suppose not…but what does my other Mom have anything to do with this?"

"You'll see. I have an idea...you gave it to me actually."

Henry glanced out of the corner of his eyes. "Does it have anything to do with finding Hook?" Emma stayed stubbornly silently. She forgot how observant children could be. "It's okay, Mom. I know you two spent awhile in Neverland together. I don't know what happened between you two, but if you're happy…then so am I."

"And how would you know all that?" Emma asked him, eyebrows raised.

Henry shrugged. "I know more than you think I do…and I may have overheard Grandma and Grandpa talking," Henry admitted as an afterthought.

"You're quite perceptive. Aren't you?"

"Soooo…. Operation Cobra is back on? Or shall we give it a new name? Operation Captain Hook?" Henry said with a grin, wiggling his eyebrows.

Emma rolled her eyes at him before giving him a gentle shove. When they got to Regina's, Henry requested to ring the doorbell because he not only liked the sound of it, but also liked the idea of surprising his other mother.

"Henry…" Regina said, her happiness evident in her voice. Though, Emma didn't miss the joy flicker out of the Queen's eyes when she saw the blond standing next to him. "Miss Swan…."

Emma didn't wait for an invite. She gently pushed her way inside, Henry following behind her.

"Please. Come inside," Regina said sarcastically. Then crossing her arms defiantly across her chest, she said, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I need you to put me under a sleeping curse," Emma told her this as if she had said she was going to the store.

" _What?"_ Regina and Henry both asked.

It was as if Killian had disappeared off the face of the earth—and perhaps he had. Perhaps he used one of Greg and Tamara's magic beans to take himself back to the Enchanted Forest. That very thought plagued her. What if Hook wasn't even in Storybrooke? What if he had gone to another realm? Her falling into Neverland seemed to have changed their futures very little, if not at all. She knew he must have taken the potion that would make him forget Neverland. It had worked with Neal, after all.

And if Killian had taken the potion and she did find him, what then? Could she make him remember? Did she even _want_ him to remember? If Killian had truly thought she had died, then why not choose to forget? Why choose to live with that pain for centuries?

"Miss Swan?" Regina asked, breaking her thoughts.

Emma swallowed the lump in her throat. It didn't hurt to try. Perhaps if he couldn't remember her, perhaps his deepest thoughts could. "That's how David was able to contact me, right?"

"Yes, but Miss Swan…who are we reaching?"

"I think you know," Emma told her, and Regina's eyebrows shot up. Then slowly, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips in triumph. "Henry can wake me," Emma added as an afterthought.

"I see you've thought this through," Regina said flatly, but then she said, "It won't work" and Emma's hope flew out the window.

Now it was Emma's turn to cross her arms across her chest. "And why not?"

"We need something meaningful. For David, we used your baby blanket."

Emma hardly hesitated. She took off the necklace, dangling it front of their faces. "Would this work?"

Regina raised her eyebrows, knowingly. For once in her life, the Queen seemed speechless. Henry's mouth dropped opened slightly as well. Then he broke into an adorkable grin. "It could work," Henry told her quite animatedly.

"…Yes. I suppose that would," Regina said eventually.

"It will," Emma assured them. "It has too."

"Miss Swan. Sleeping curses aren't to be taken lightly. You might not even realize you are dreaming until it's too late before…well…whatever it is you want to say."

"I just…I need to send him a message, Regina. Please."

"Alright, Miss Swan. Let's give this a shot."

 **xXxXxXxXx**

It didn't take Emma very long to realize that she had company. She regarded her visitor closely. She had to admit that him being here was unparalleled. Everything was perfectly in order; exactly as it should have been, but in another time and another place. She hadn't seen him in for what felt like an eternity and yet, he was standing in front of her now as if nothing had changed.

And if she stopped to think about it, she would have realized how unordinary it was for him to be with her now. She would have stopped to wonder about the logistics of the whole place. The water was too blue, the weather was just right. To put it simply, it was breathtakingly perfect. For the first time in an incredibly long time, she felt at peace, she felt happy, so she chose to forget exactly how she came to be standing on the Jolly Roger with Killian standing at her side.

She hadn't known before just how much her existence depended on his. Killian Jones had planted a seed in her heart and its roots had set deeply there.

"Emma?" he said softly and that was enough. Very carefully, he brought a shaking hand to touch her face. "Is it really you?"

"It's really me," she confirmed. She leaned into it and her heart broke just a little when he choked on a sob.

She bit her lip. A strange sensation washed over her, one she couldn't shake. Killian knew her too well and it didn't go unnoticed by him. "What is it love?"

"It's just…I feel like I'm forgetting something."

It was on the tip of her tongue, just out of reach, but Killian was tracing the outline of her lip with his thumb and she was finding it awfully difficult to concentrate on anything else. "I can't remember…it must not have been important."

Emma leaned back slightly to look him in the eye. She knew she was forgetting something, something important. But his eyes were so blue and he was looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered in this world.

When he kissed her, her heart exploded inside her chest. When he touched her, it felt like her skin was fire. It was sweet at first. Perfect and everything that a kiss between lovers should be. She let him pick her up and carry her to his cabin. She let him kiss his way down her neck. She let him undress her in the sliver beams of moonlight. Because in that moment, everything was perfect and he was as real as she needed him to be.

Still, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was forgetting something. Just when she thought she could grasp it, Killian began to kiss his way down her stomach and she found it incredibly difficult to think of anything other than the pleasure rolling off her in waves of ecstasy.

It was perfect.

He was perfect.

So she moaned and arched from under him. She let him do things to her she had never let a man come close to doing and she came undone around him. Emma answered his silent plea with a kiss before she guided him towards her center. They both sighed in content when he entered her and they moved together as one.

Emma felt her magic building up inside her. It flowed beneath her skin, bubbling just underneath the surface. When they came together, she let it explode out around them. It filled the room, warming their skin. In that moment, Emma didn't know her heart could feel so full. When they were finished, Killian pulled away just long enough to look her in the eye and her hand found his way to his cheek.

"You're shaking," she whispered as she traced the outline of his face with her fingers. She wanted to stay there forever, caught in a state of limbo between two clashing realms. Despite its inherent flaws, this was the heaven she didn't believe in and she rejoiced in it. It mattered little that his touch wasn't real, or that his body wasn't as warm as she'd always remembered. It was where she wanted to be—with him. Yet it frightened her how quickly she was willing to live a fantasy rather than face reality.

He chuckled. "I never want to forget this." He took her hand in his and kissed the tips of her fingers before gently rolling off her. She pillowed against him, tracing lazy circles over his chest.

"How long has it been?" she asked him after a moment. She felt like it had been an awfully long time since she saw him last and she couldn't think of as to why. More strangely, she couldn't think of why this wasn't a concern.

"Decades," he answered.

Then suddenly Killian was pleading with her, crying as he apologized for all the awful things he had said to her in the Enchanted Forest. He wanted her to forgive him and she did forgive him. But then he said something that ignited a flame in her heart. That forgetfulness came upon her suddenly, like a time bomb waiting to explode. It was a thought she couldn't quite shake, like when you couldn't remember if you turned off the stove or locked the front door.

"I had to say and do all that." He turned to her then, so she could see that he was telling her the truth. "So you could live."

Then all at once, her memories seemed to hit her with the force of a category-five hurricane. Her heart began to beat rapidly and she had to clutch at her chest just to keep it anchored inside. For a minute, she was seized by a horrible sense of fear. As Killian spilled his heart out to her, emptying himself at the seams, she caught a series of images. Both lovely and horrible images of their time spent in Neverland. While she struggled to bring her breathing under control, she listened as Killian explained what happened after Rumpelstiltskin had made him drive a sword through her heart.

It didn't make sense. Nothing did. If Killian had remembered her when she met him in the Enchanted Forest, then why hadn't he said anything? But then he told her of his plan to change her future, so she would never fall into Neverland, so she wouldn't have to die.

"Wait…Killian. Slow down… I knew what I was forgetting. I remember."

The atmosphere magically changed around them, like the casting of a potent Wicca spell. The sound of rain began to tap at the window. But he didn't hear her. Instead, he held up the magic bean, which safely hung from around his neck. "I took this from the giant. I took the bean so you would never fall into Neverland. I took the bean so you will live."

"The bean the giant gave you?" Emma asked. "What? Killian that's not the bean that took me to Neverland—"

His heart fell inside his chest. "What do you mean?"

"It was a bean that Tamara had—"

"Who's Tamara?"

"Killian!" she shouted at him, grabbing his shoulders. "That's beside the point!" Emma glanced down at her hands, as if questioning her very existence. "Regina…" she whispered. "She said I might not realize this was a dream at first… Oh God."

"Emma," he whispered, reaching for her. She leaned back, nearly toppling out of the bed in the process. He scrambled to reach out and pull her back to him, but she kept her arms out to keep him at a distance. She had to make him believe. She couldn't lose him now. She needed him to understand that she was very much alive.

"Killian. You have to listen to me. We are dreaming," she told him desperately.

As her panic swept in, hitting her at full force, the dream shook around them.

 _No. Not yet. She needed more time._

Killian grabbed her hand. It did little to stop the trembling of the walls, the shaking of the ground beneath their feet. The wind grew louder, the rain grew heavier.

"I know," he said, as if it were obvious.

"No. You don't understand," she tried to tell him. "I'm alive," but over the roar of the dream shattering around them, she never quite brought the words to life and all at once, the dream collapsed in on itself—a tidal wave of water and debris, hitting them at full force. Emma awoke with a jolt, only to find Regina and Henry staring at her as if she had grown a second head.

"Well?" Regina asked.

"You…you need to send me back."

"I can't just send you back," Regina said, slightly irritated. "It doesn't work that way."

Henry placed his hand over hers. "It's okay, Mom. Don't worry. You'll find him. That's what this family does," he told her with a smile on his face. "We find each other. Always."

His reassuring smile was almost enough to give her hope.

Almost.

 **xXxXxXxXx**

Emma left Henry with Regina, despite Henry's best wishes to carry out their operation. She promised to pick him up in time for dinner at Granny's. Sometime later, she found herself at the docks, pacing back and forth. She had known his ship wouldn't be there. She checked everyday, hoping that he'd find his way back to her all the same. Still, the dock was still empty and her heart broke just a tiny bit more.

Emma ran her hand through her hair and let out a shaky sigh, refusing to let the tears fall. She could feel a storm brewing up inside her. Her magic boiled beneath her skin, screaming to let out. In that moment, her heart felt heavy. Heavy with regret and sorrow and all the emotions she couldn't quite place. Her mind was on repeat and like an old picture movie show, a series of images kept flashing behind her eyes.

 _"Thankfully you've got me to protect you,"_ he had told her in the Enchanted Forest.

Emma inhaled sharply.

 _"Have you ever been in love?"_ he had prompted her on the beanstalk.

Breathe, Emma told herself.

 _"_ _Hey, beautiful,"_ he had greeted her when she found him on the side of the road with cracked ribs.

Emma closed her eyes. His words rung loud and true in her head. _"I took this from the giant. I took the bean so you would never fall into Neverland._ _I took the bean so you will live."_

He came back to Storybrooke to save her. His words burned into the back of her mind and she kept replaying them in her head, ensuring that she had, in fact, heard him right.

 _"_ _I took the bean so you will live."_

Emma's heart pinched inside her chest. He hadn't taken the potion, which meant he would have known her the moment they stumbled into each other in the Enchanted Forest. He would have known who she was when he choose to work with Cora and he would have known who she was when he had gotten hit by that car trying to kill Rumpelstiltskin.

She remembered waiting in his hospital room far longer than necessary, sitting on his bedside, waiting for him to wake up. At the time, she told herself and the others that she didn't want him to escape again (pirate, after all), but she had been kidding herself. Even then, she had cared for him, had sensed something between them. It was there, just beneath the surface, like an invisible pull she couldn't quite shake. She remembered he had looked so peaceful and innocent lying there. She remembered wanting to caress his cheek.

Then he woke.

He had flirted with her and smiled at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. She remembered how easy it had all been. The two of them had never tiptoed around each other, like she did with everyone else in this town. The two of them, well, they danced.

 _"_ _You're awfully chipper for a guy who just failed to kill his enemy, then got hit by car."_

 _"_ _I did some quality damage to my foe."_

 _"_ _You hurt Belle!"_

 _"_ _I hurt his heart. Belle's just where he keeps it. He killed my love. I know the feeling."_

She went over everything he had said to her, every encountered they had together. Still, none of this explained why he thought working for Cora was his only option. None of this explained why he just didn't _tell her._

She paused.

Because if he succeeded with his plan then she never would have gotten the bean, she never would have fallen into Neverland and she perhaps never would have remembered the Killian Jones she had come to love.

Love.

It felt strange, even thinking it. She had been in love once, but not like this and admitting that, even to herself, was enough to shake the ground beneath her feet. She wasn't exactly sure when it started or when it happened. It had come without warming, like a tidal wave that swept her off her feet and drowned her. She had spent years building her walls up around herself, refusing to let people in. But Killian found his way all the same. She had built her walls so high, that now that she had fallen, she wasn't quite sure how to brace for the impact of that fall.

Emma suddenly found it very difficult to breathe. She was in state of panic, and her mind couldn't seem to process the events unfolding around her it. It felt as if her world was breaking.

"Why hello, Dearie. Curious to find you here."

Emma jumped. It shouldn't have surprised her, seeing Mr. Gold there, dressed like any ordinary man out and about. She suspected he was always somewhere in the shadows, always watching nearby. But she had seen him for what he truly was back in Neverland—a monster, and she couldn't rid the image from her mind. For a moment, she could only see the monster in him, with scaly green skin and beady black eyes.

 _A crocodile._

Floating in out of consciousness, she remembered very little after Rumpelstiltskin had made Killian drive the sword through her heart. She did remember, or rather feel, Killian's anguish. His cries had bled into her soul and they had planted a seed deeply in her own heart. Killian's cries haunted her nightmares. Only in her dreams was she forced to relive those moments. It was why she couldn't sleep. It was why her parents wouldn't stop shooting her those concern looks of theirs.

"What are you doing here," Emma said, feeling much more confident than she actually felt. She doubted Mr. Gold enjoyed taking long walks by the docks by himself.

"I could ask you the same question, Miss Swan."

She regarded him intently, curious as to what game he was playing. It had been three days since arriving back in Storybrooke and yet this was the first of seeing and hearing from him. When she refused to play his game, a smile tugged at the corner of Mr. Gold's lips.

"If you don't mind me saying…I'm surprised to see you back so soon. Curious, really."

Emma's senses jumped into overdrive. _He remembered._ "Funny. I don't find it curious at all."

"Is that so?"

"Where is he?" she snapped.

Mr. Gold glanced to the side, as if the very conversation was a bore to him. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Dearie." She caught the lie all the same and her heart began to beat loudly inside her chest. If Gold knew about Killian's whereabouts that meant nothing good.

"I'm not in the mood for games, Gold. Where is Killian?"

"And why should you have any interest in the pirate's whereabouts?"

She refused to play his game. "I think you know."

Mr. Gold shrugged mockingly at her. "Perhaps. Perhaps not."

On instinct, Emma's hand subconsciously reached for her hostler, though unfortunately for her, she had left her gun back in the loft. Not that it mattered, considering she hardly stood a chance against him. Her magic hummed beneath her skin. At least she wasn't completely defenseless.

"If you know where Killian is—"

"And why should I help you, Miss Swan?" Mr. Gold cut her off, eyebrows raised in question.

"You _killed_ me," Emma hissed at him.

"Ah. But did _I_? I recall the events unfolding quite differently if you ask me."

He was taunting her. Like an addiction, did you blame the drug or the person who took it? Gold, he wanted to break her, he wanted to break them. To her, it didn't matter if Killian held the blade that ultimately killed her. In the end, it was Rumpelstiltskin who stole his heart. They were pawns, she realized. They were all pawns in his wicked game and the world was Rumpelstiltskin's chessboard.

"I could tell everybody what happened," she threatened, feeling much bolder now. "Neal would never forgive you. You would lose him along with your grandson. You could lose Belle."

Mr. Gold shrugged, but she caught the flicker of some emotion—hate perhaps—in his eyes. Perhaps he did have something left of a heart after all. "And why haven't you?"

Emma hesitated, caught off guard by the question. "What do you mean?"

"Why haven't you told anyone? About Neverland."

Emma swallowed hard. Why hadn't she told them? Killian for starters. She also didn't want Neal knowing she had been in Neverland with them. Still, she could have easily told them that Rumpelstiltskin had killed her and spared all the other details. She fought the urge to reach for Killian's ring. It was the only thing nowadays that brought her some sort of peace.

Mr. Gold broke her from her thoughts. "How about a deal, Miss Swan?"

Emma let out a broken laugh. She knew deals with Rumpelstiltskin could lead her to no good. Still, if he knew where Killian was…

"What kind of deal?"

"I didn't take your pirate," Mr. Gold told her and she was annoyed to find truth in his eyes. "I can tell you his whereabouts. Not terribly far from here actually."

"Greg and Tamara," Emma whispered knowingly. Her father had told her that after Killian had learned of Greg and Tamara's true plan to destroy Storybrooke, he had switched sides and helped them take back the magic beans, which they used to create a portal and throw the trigger into. She doubted Greg and Tamara took his betrayal lightly. Emma regarded him skeptically. "And what do you get out of all this."

"Oh. I don't know just yet. You'll owe me a favor."

 _Don't do it,_ her mind screamed, but her heart spoke louder.

"How do I know you aren't lying to me?"

"I think this will suffice." Mr. Gold reached inside his jacket pocket and whatever he pulled out, caught the sun just right. Even from a distance, she could see the curve of the metal. Her heart dropped inside her chest. Killian's hook bounced across the deck, before landing at her feet. Emma picked up the familiar piece of metal and her heart pinched inside her chest.

"Oh, and Miss Swan?" Mr. Gold, said breaking her from her thoughts. "Remember. All magic comes with a price."


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: I know in the show they only get one bean from Greg and Tamara. I've changed it slightly because…well, you'll see!**

 **Thanks again for all the reviews.**

 **Enjoy**

 **Chapter 19**

 ** _Before_**

"Actually, I prefer with the lights on," Killian muttered.

Honestly, he did not know how he kept ending up in these situations. The last thing he remembered was finally extracting his revenge on the damn crocodile when _Emma_ bested him— _again_. Bloody, hell. Grunting, he attempted to massage the headache pulsating through his temples but found that he couldn't move. He was sitting up, bound to some sort of chair, and once he established that this was not actually one big dream, he let out a very heavy, frustrated sigh.

In what should have probably frightened him—he was tied against his will, after all—had absolutely no effect on him whatsoever. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He was just plain annoyed. Honestly, he'd spent so long trying to change the future that roadblocks hardly surprised him anymore. Why couldn't things play in his favor _for once._ Was that too bloody much to ask?

Suddenly, someone pulled the bag off his head. Killian blinked back the light. A quick glance of his surroundings told him he wasn't back in that retched "New York." Likely, back in Storybrooke, he presumed, though why his captors bothered to tie him up in the first place, he had not a clue. For wherever his Swan went, he followed.

"I've spent enough time below deck to not be afraid of the dark, so if this is your idea of torture, well…you're just going to have try a little harder," he told the girl standing in front of him. He ran his eyes up in down her body, doing his best to make her feel uncomfortable. She hardly blinked an eye. In fact, he recognized that glossed over look anywhere—it was the same look he held in his own eyes. She had one mission and nothing was going to stand in her way.

"Torture you?" the man next to the girl cut in. "No, we just want to offer you a job."

Killian's eyebrows shot up. Nearly lost for words, he erupted into a laugh. "And then you'll let me go?" Honestly, and they called themselves clever. The couple shared a knowing look and that was when it occurred to him on why'd they be offering _him_ a job. "Oh, I'm sorry. I already did that last job. I killed Rumpelstiltskin. I'm sated. Replete. My life's purpose met."

"I wish I could have been there," the girl said. "To see you stab the Dark One."

She was mocking him and his patience was waning.

"Well look who's up to speed."

"I'm a quick learner," she shot back.

"Well then you know my work is done."

"Yeah, I don't think so," the man said. They both grabbed his chair and pushed him towards the window, so fast, that he feared that they were going to push him out of the tower.

"Take a look," the man told him quite rudely. The woman handed him a spyglass. He bit his tongue, and took it from her, only because he knew that they could very well shove him out the window if they so pleased.

He could just make out two people walking down below—a man and a woman who he thought looked awfully familiar when it hit him. His heart froze in his chest. Even with her dressed in such an uncharacteristic outfit, he knew without a doubt that this woman was Belle…which could only mean…

"No," he whispered. Only when his eyes traveled down to the all too familiar limp and a walking cane did he finally let himself accept that he had failed. "No!"

Centuries seeking revenge and he had bloody failed.

"He's alive, Hook," the girl shouted at him, taking the spyglass from his grasp. He glanced down, refusing to meet their gaze. A million thoughts ran through his head and he could only think of one thing—no, person—of how the Crocodile had managed to escape death once more. Goddamn it, Emma. He found it ironic that she had saved that beast's life when he had not even hesitated to take hers.

"He beat you," the man taunted and it took everything in Killian's power to not lunge out and strangle the mindless twit.

"How can you help me?" he spat out.

"Now this guy has powerful magic, mate. He's untouchable. You'll never get another chance to take him down."

Oh, how they severely underestimated him. "Oh, I will. I will indeed," he told him.

"Not unless we help you," the girl offered.

"How can you help me?" Killian snapped.

If they didn't stop taunting him, they were going to regret it rather soon. He wouldn't have called the knots that bounded him 'knots.' Terrible job. He would be out in seconds.

"We know how to kill magical creatures."

"And the price?"

"I need you to help me find someone," the man told him. Then after a pause, "My father. He was taken in this town a long time ago."

"And why the bloody hell do you think I'll be able to help find your father?"

"Because you know the woman who took him. Regina."

 **xXxXxXxXx**

It wasn't until he learned their names that he accepted their offer without hesitation.

Tamara and Greg.

In his dream, Emma had explicitly told him that she had gotten the magic bean from a "Tamara." This had to be the girl Emma had mentioned. So help him if it wasn't…. He was so close to saving her he could almost taste it. In a short while, he could put all this to rest. His life's purpose finally met. So when they asked him to help them capture the Evil Queen, he didn't even hesitate. She'd done plenty to him in the past, screwing him over more times than he could count. Still, now that it was all said and done, he couldn't help but feel shame and guilt creeping up his back. Worst of all, when he had handed Regina over to them, she didn't seemed surprised at all.

Regina laid on the table, full of wires taped to her head. Greg and Tamara hadn't exactly told him they planned on torturing her. He brought a hook up to her chin, unsure if she was still even breathing. Then she blinked, no hint of betrayal or surprise in her gaze, like she knew she never should have trusted him to begin with.

It hurt him a lot more than it should have. He owed her nothing.

"Whatever they are offering you. It's not worth it," Regina told him.

"Well considering they are offering to kill Rumpelstiltskin, then I'd say it is."

"And you actually trust them?"

Killian fought the urge to laugh. Of course he didn't. As soon as he got the magic bean, he was going to leave them all behind.

"And you don't even know who you are working for."

That struck a chord. Until then, it actually hadn't occurred to him that Greg and Tamara might be working for somebody else. Before he could ask, Greg wheeled in a strange looking contraption, which could mean nothing good. Then Greg made somee stupid pun about his hand and Killian fought the urge to snap the guy's neck.

He was tired of games.

Tired of people

Tired of fighting.

"Sorry mate, I have to say no. When you're interested in killing Rumpelstiltskin, not torturing the Queen...find me."

 **xXxXxXxXx**

"It's just ahead," Greg told them, as they let another strange contraption guide their way.

Hook was growing incredibly impatient with Greg and Tamara. He knew they had the damn bean that would transport Emma to Neverland, though he had yet to see it. So he continued to play their game. When he had his moment, he would take the bean and leave. Staying in Storybrooke wasn't an option anymore. He had done more than enough damage to make his Swan hate him.

"Are you sure whoever's in charge of you guys doesn't want you to die in a mine collapse?" he asked, unable to shake what Regina had taunted him with earlier.

"Just keep moving," Tamara huffed at him.

Clearly, the annoyance was mutual.

Greg and Tamara were working for somebody and he wasn't going to drop the subject until he got an answer. Killian only risked his life for love and revenge, and right now, Greg and Tamara were both failing to meet those two categories.

"Who is telling you what to do?"

"That's not your concern," Greg snapped. "It's not ours either," he added, like that made all the sense in all the realms.

 _Bloody hell._

"Not you're concern?" Killian asked him in utter disbelief. He was convinced now that he had never worked with two people more dimwitted than them. "So you're telling me you don't know who commands you?"

"Unlike you, Hook, we believe in something. We have faith in the sacredness of our cause."

Oh if they only knew. Killian openly rolled his eyes at her. And how long had they been fighting for their so called "cause" he wanted to ask him. He doubted they had spent nearly half the amount of time he had fighting for _his_ cause.

"We're here," Greg called from up ahead.

"So you're sacred cause is pilfering a dwarf's pickax?" he taunted them.

"Regina had this in her pocket when you turned her over to us," Tamara said, pulling out what he could only describe as a diamond. It was such a dark shade of purple that it almost looked black.

"It's a trigger," Greg clarified for him. "And this ax, according to our people, is what activates it."

Oh, Seven Hells. Certainly the most idiotic duo he ever had the displeasure of meeting. "You're going to destroy an entire town and kill everyone in it?" Killian said, trying to wrap his head around it. He hoped he put the pieces together wrong, but his heart flipped inside his chest when he realized that Greg and Tamara were serious about this operation.

"Yeah, including your enemy," Greg said eagerly, as if that fact alone should reassure him.

"Rumpelstiltskin won't be immune to this?" he asked despite himself.

"None of your kind would be."

Stupid. So incredibly stupid.

Killian was beginning to understand that Rumpelstiltskin wasn't immune to anything.

"Once this thing gets activated, nothing can shut it off," Tamara continued on, oblivious to his discomfort.

"This whole town will revert to the forest it was," Greg jumped in. "So tell us, Hook, we're willing to die for our cause. Are you willing to die for yours?"

Yes.

It wasn't even a question. He was willing to die for what he believed in, but what he believed in didn't particularly align with what Greg and Tamara believed in and he wasn't willing to die for _their_ cause either. And yes, he wanted to kill Rumpelstiltskin, but not if it meant Emma had to die as well. He spent far too long trying to save her for her to be killed by this idiotic couple. He eyed the ax Greg held tightly in his hand, debating his options. Aside from his hook, Killian may have well been defenseless. He couldn't very well tell them they were out of their bloody damn minds without it backfiring against him.

"Absolutely," he forced out through gritted teeth.

And just like that, he had won them over.

Greg and Tamara shared a small smile. Then Tamara set the diamond down and Greg swung the ax, striking the diamond right at its center.

Well, shit.

He hadn't expected them to activate the trigger so soon. Killian only hoped that the diamond didn't have an immediate effect. It lifted slowly off the ground, giving off a dark shade of blue now. Killian didn't miss the fear in their eyes. Perhaps they weren't entirely willing to die for their cause after all. The diamond grew brighter and brighter, before a wave a blue light burst from its heart. It shot out across the room, sending them a few feet back, before retreating to a mere shimmer.

Greg moved first and Killian nearly let out a sigh of relief. As they reached the entrance of the mines, Killian fumbled his way through a lie, telling them he couldn't die for their cause without securing the safety of his ship. Anything really to get himself the hell away from them. Unsurprisingly, the idiotic couple bought it, or perhaps, they simply didn't care what he did, now that they had activated the trigger.

"Meet back at the harbor in an hour," Greg told him.

Killian didn't dwell on their departure. He ultimately decided to abandoned plan A and go for plan B, which honestly was a complete and utterly insane plan to begin with. In fact, it was crazy and idiotic and foolish, but he didn't care. As long as Emma was alive and safe. He hardly thought it through. In fact, he decided upon it the moment he parted ways with Greg and Tamara.

He would kidnap her because _he couldn't let her die._ It was irrational, he knew, but he loved her. Gods, he loved her and he couldn't let her die. Yes. He made up his mind, he thought, breathing in sharply. He would take her and the lad. They would sail far, far away on his ship. She wouldn't die. They would make new memories.

Together.

The very thought had him running to her apartment. He reached the loft in record time, taking two steps at a time until he was standing right outside her front door. He could hear voices from inside the apartment.

Shit.

It hadn't occurred to him that Emma might have company. But there was no time for dilly dallying. They didn't have much time.

 _"_ _Stop!"_ he heard Henry scream from just outside the door. " _I don't want to lose anyone else. We have to work together."_

Well, better late than never.

"From the mouths of babes," he announced as he entered the room. "I'd say the lad has a point."

His head reeled back so suddenly he hardly had time to process the pain pulsating through his jaw or the fact that David had just punched him for honestly no good reason. It took all his effort not to throw a punch right back, knowing it would not help his brilliant course of action.

"That's for the last time we met."

 _Nice to see you too, mate._ "Bloody Hell," he hissed as he brought up a hand to ensure there was no blood.

"Tell us why you're here before I use something other than my fists," David said, pulling out his weapon in the process.

Killian rolled his eyes, more than knowing it was an empty threat. "I think threatening to kill me is a bit redundant when we're all about to die anyway," Hook snapped back.

"No thanks to you. Regina just told us you were working with Tamara and Greg to get your revenge," an all too familiar voice broke his thoughts.

His eyes found Baelfire's eyes unerringly fast. Like himself, Bae had found a way to cheat death. The boy had grown quite a bit since he last seen him, but it was still the same Bae he had loved like a son. It was a little strange to know that they were both the same age now. Still, his eyes were the same and if he looked closely, he could still see the child he had foster all those lifetimes ago. He swallowed the lump in his throat, wondering how different their lives could have played out if he hadn't gave the boy over to Pan.

"That was before they told me I had to die to get it," he explained. Bae refused to meet his gaze. In fact, he seemed disconnected from the world around him.

As Killian said this, it dawned on him that Emma was not even in the loft. He whipped his head around, wondering if Emma was just in the back room. He found it strange that they had all gathered without her. Then his eyes found Henry, whose eyes were red and raw from crying. In fact, Snow was crying as well—no sobbing and his heart stilled inside his chest. He recognized those sobs. They mirrored his own on the nights he relived her death.

"We don't have time for this. We have a real problem," David said, breaking his thoughts.

"There is no stopping it," Regina said, stepping forward. "The best thing I can do is slow it down. That will only delay the inevitable."

"Or give us the time we need," David whispered, and Killian could practically see the plan developing behind the prince's eyes.

"What's the point," Snow whispered out a cry.

 _What the bloody hell was going on._

"Snow…" David tried, reaching for his wife, but she pulled back, just out of his reach. "I can't, David. Maybe this isn't such a bad thing…"

David shook his head. "No!" he shouted. "Don't say that. We don't even know if she's—"

"Don't say it!" Snow snapped at him, but David placed his hands firmly on his wife's shoulders and pulled her in close..

"We will find her, Snow. We _always_ find each other."

"Will somebody tell me what in Seven Hells is going on!?" Killian shouted, so loudly, that the conversation dropped like a rock.

Everyone's head turned in his direction and he found himself being stared down by five pair of eyes. They didn't need to say anything, for he already knew. He could see the unmistakable truth within their expressions, plain as day. Sometimes actions spoke louder than words, and right now, their emotions were screaming.

 _No._

He stood his ground, refusing to let them see the affect it had on him. The silence that hung around them seemed to last a lifetime before finally, Bae stood up from where he was sitting on the stairs and slowly walked over to him.

"Emma…she was right about Tamara. Tamara had a gun and she was going to kill me, but Emma…" he trailed off, taking a moment to compose himself. "Tamara had a magic bean and Emma fell into the portal it opened. I tried to pull her out of it…." Then after another pause, "She saved me," Baelfire finished hauntingly. "It should have been me."

And it should have been, Killian almost snapped, but he held his tongue and immediately regretted it. He loved Emma but he also never stopped caring for Bae either. It was a terrible wish to behold and he hated himself for even wishing it.

 _Sorrow._

He felt its presence building inside his chest. The feeling reminded him that after all this, he was still very much alive and Emma was very much not. He had failed. Centuries spent trying to find a way to stop her from falling into Neverland and he had failed. He felt his soul slip from his body, like one of those strange out-of-body experiences and for a moment, he felt nothing at all. This was a place he didn't know even existed, where he could simply stand back and watch the pain, but not feel it, unfold around him.

"Hook?" came Bae's voice.

Hook couldn't hear him though, nor did he want to. He would have preferred to stay in this state of limbo, feeling nothing at all.

"What do you mean…she just fell into a portal? Where?" someone asked.

The blank stares told him that he had asked that question.

Bae gave him the most peculiar look. "No…I… don't know."

And just like that, his sense of feeling immediately returned in a rush of harsh and bitter agony. It was then that he let his emotions get the best of him and he let his facade slip. He dropped his act, not caring that he was supposed to be playing a part for them. He didn't care that to them, he should not be this concerned about Emma Swan's whereabouts. None of that mattered now.

"There's got to be a way to find out," Killian snapped then.

Before any of them could question why he cared so damn much, Regina, rather absentmindedly, said, "There is a way, actually."

"What?" Snow's voiced his own glimmer or hope. "You can find her?"

"Yes…but none of that matters now."

"We can steal back the beans," David said. "We can use them to get everyone back into the Enchanted Forest before Storybrooke is gone."

"Bean?" Killian whispered, though judging from the way everyone ignored him, he doubted he even brought the word to life. Tamara and Greg still had magic beans. He was sure of it. Regina had a way to contact Emma. _Regina had a way to contact Emma._ Perhaps there was still a small beacon of hope after all. Perhaps he hadn't completely failed.

"How? We don't even know were Greg and Tamara are," Neal argued.

"Well I do," Killian told them honestly. "I can help."

"Yourself? You'll take them and leave us all behind," Neal cut in, the distrust evident. "Why should we trust you?"

Well, Killian could see that Bae was still holding that grudge against him. Excellent. Even if Bae was right, they didn't need to know that. They shouldn't trust him, he thought. He didn't want to take the bean only to go back to the bloody Enchanted Forest. If Emma had fell into Neverland, then that was where he was going too. And they didn't need to know this. He just needed to make them believe he was on their side, and it wasn't that he wasn't on their side…he was rather just on Emma's side.

And only Emma's.

Before he could explain himself, David, surprisingly, came to his rescue. "He doesn't have to. I'll go with him. If he tries anything I'll shoot him in the face."

Frankly, he was getting tired of everyone wanting him dead. It was exhausting honestly.

"Quite hostile aren't we?"

"Just being clear."

"David…" came Snow's voice and he couldn't practically hear the struggle. "Do you think we will find her?"

Regina actually was the one that answered. "If this plan works…I can help you find her."

Killian's heart skipped a beat inside his chest.

There was still hope.

Snow gave Regina a weak smile. "Okay. I'll go with you to go slow down the diamond," Snow decided. "Neal. Can you take Henry and gather everyone to make sure they are ready to go as soon as we have those beans."

 **xXxXxXxXx**

Hook was tired.

Tired of fighting.

Tired of people standing in his way.

Tired of people questioning his intentions.

"So tell me, Hook," David began and Killian huffed. Now was not the time for small talk. He just wanted to find Greg and Tamara. He just wanted to save Emma's life. Was that honestly too much to ask?

"All this time its been about revenge for you. Why is it suddenly so important to you that you survive?"

 _So your daughter will bloody well live, mate._ Killian had little effort to say anything, so he instead shot the prince a glare instead. That seemed to have absolutely no effect. In fact, David hardly seemed to be paying attention to him at all, seemingly much more content on…well… whatever the point was he was trying to make.

"I know what I'm fighting for," David continued on. "My family. What are you fighting for?"

 _Seven hells._

Did he have to explain everything he did. "Myself. There's plenty of motivation I can assure you."

It wasn't entirely a lie. He couldn't very well save Emma if he was dead and that was plenty of motivation to keep on going. Even if he wanted nothing more than to let that diamond put an end to his misery, he needed to keep on going for Emma's sake, for all their sakes.

David didn't seem to buy his answer. Before he could argue further with him, they heard a 'thud' not too far ahead. David already had his gun out, pushing himself in front. Killian wasn't unfamiliar with guns, he just rather preferred a sword. A fairer fight in his opinion. However, if David wanted to take the lead and walk into the unknown, Killian wasn't going to stop him either. Just behind a pole, Killian could make out a silhouette heading their way.

David jumped out first, gun aimed to kill, though Killian had an incredibly hard time imagining the prince killing anyone…well…ever.

"The beans. Give them to me," David told him.

Something wasn't right. Killian swayed back and forth on his feet, ready to strike at any moment. Greg, holding two brief cases, stopped and slowly lowered them to the floor. Then, as if he'd been waiting for them to show up all along, he held out a clear jar. _The beans._

"You mean these?"

The sound of bullets sent them back. Thankfully, Tamara was a terrible shot and only grazed David's arm. Acting purely on instinct, he threw his body and tackled Greg to the ground. The jar slipped from Greg's hand and the glass shattered across the floor. David raced away, presumably after Tamara to heavens knew where. It didn't take much to get the upper hand. One punch and Greg let out a painful gasp. Killian had to admit that it felt good.

 _That was for Emma,_ he thought

The beans laid just out of reach, so he threw Greg off him. Just as he was about to stick one with his hook, Greg grabbed him and pull him back. Killian threw his elbow out, smacking Greg right in the nose. It wasn't much, but it was enough to give him the time he needed to grab the beans. The moment his hand closed around it, Greg leapt to his feet and bent over to pick up the remaining ones.

Then he was off again and Killian let out a heavy sigh.

 _David._

Hating himself, he heaved himself to his feet and raced after Greg, despite the fact that he had not only managed to secure one but _two_ magic beans. He raced around the corner just in time to see Greg tackling David to the ground. Greg pulled himself up first before dragging Tamara out the back entrance. Before David could go off and get himself killed, Killian grabbed his arm and held him back.

"What are you doing!? They've got the beans!"

"Not all of them! I snagged two," Killian shouted back. He held up the satchel for proof.

"Where are the rest?" David snapped.

"Who cares? All we need is one." David, not liking that answer, started after them again, but Killian shot out his arm and pulled David back. "Hey!" he shouted. "Live to fight another day, mate."

David shook his arm out of his grip. "I'm not your mate." Then grabbing the satchel, David stormed off in the opposite direction, back the way they entered.

Well, that settled that.

It felt like an eternity before they finally reached the diner. All the while, he kept eyeing the satchel David held tightly in his hand. He thought about tearing it from the prince's grip and making a run for it, but thought better of it. If Regina could use her magic to find and save Emma… then maybe, just maybe everything would work out in his favor for once.

And he had to have hope.

He had to.

"We got the beans!" David said once they reached Granny's, breaking him from his thoughts.

Well, _he_ got the beans, but Killian found little point in dwelling on that matter.

"You did it?" Snow asked, racing to her husband's side. Her eyes grew wide with concern when she noticed the cut on his arm. "Are you okay?"

"It's just a graze. I'm fine."

"Okay," Neal said. "Let's get going. Henry"

Henry went to Baelfire without question and Killian couldn't help but notice how at ease the two of them were with one another. He found it incredibly strange that Emma had not even bothered mentioning that she knew Baelfire long before she fell into Neverland. But then again, perhaps she hadn't known? He went by a different name then, but surely she must have learned his true identity at some point down the line.

"Where's my mom?" came Henry's small voice.

"Kid…Regina can hold off the self-destruct just long enough for us to escape but…" Neal trailed off at the hopeful expression on the young lad's face.

"But what?" Henry asked, eyebrows in question.

"She won't survive," Neal managed eventually.

The silence that hung around them seemed to last an eternity before Henry finally registered exactly what Neal had just told him.

"No…" Henry whispered in disbelief. "No!"

"Henry," Neal cut in quickly and Killian could hear the urgency in his voice. "I'm sorry. I promised her I'd get you to safety."

"No, we can't do this! She's family. We don't leave family behind."

Despite Henry's heartbreak, Neal pressed on, desperately trying to make the kid see his point. "This is what she wants. This is what _Emma_ would have wanted. We have a way out. We have to take it."

"We saved her from being killed by the wraith. How is this any different?"

"The wraith," Snow whispered.

"What?"

"We sent it through a portal. Why can't we do the same thing with the self-destruct?"

Shit.

Well. He hadn't thought about that. Hook eye's snapped to the satchel David was carrying and wondered what his odds were of successfully stealing the beans and making a run for it. He doubted very far at all. They only needed one bean, he thought. They could save the town while he used the other to find Emma. The only problem was that he didn't know _where_ Emma was. Without magic, he ran the risk of ending up heavens knew where. So much could go wrong...

"Because we don't know if it's going to work."

"It could!" Snow shouted, excitement building.

"Yeah," David agreed.

Neal shook his head. "It's too risky. No one'll go along with it."

"Yes, we will, because it's the right thing to do." Ah, the walking conscious. The cricket spoke loudly and confidently. "Look, Snow White and the Prince have always led us before and we've always won. So who's willing to let them lead us again?"

Everyone in the diner's hand flew up. Well, that certainly did not take much convincing.

"Thank you, Archie. This is what we should do," Snow assured them.

"And will do."

"Neal…I know you don't know us very well. I know you know us as the parents who abandoned Emma on the side of the road. Let us do the right thing. It's not too late."

The silence seemed to stretch out before them and Killian couldn't help but wonder why this plan's go ahead relied entirely on Neal.

"I just don't want him to be alone. I don't want him to grow up the way either I or Emma did."

Neal glanced down at the ground for a moment, deep in thought. When he looked back up, Killian could see that the Charmings had convinced him. "If the plan works… Regina said she could help us find Emma."

David nodded. "Yes. If the plan works. We will find her. We will _always_ find her."

Still, Killian had lived with Baelfire for far too long. Even after all these years, he could see that something was troubling him. "Why are you really doing this?" Killian asked.

"I could ask you the same question," Neal shot back, but then his face fell. "The kid just lost his mother today. I'm not going to let him lose his other mother too."

"You and Emma...you're close then?"

"Yeah…" Neal drew out, giving him a peculiar expression. "I'm Henry's father."

 **xXxXxXxXx**

He ultimately decided to go with their stupid, idiotic plan. Firstly, because he knew for certain that Regina just might be able to help him find and save Emma. She had magic after all. Secondly, when he found Emma, he doubted she'd take to the idea of her entire Family perishing at the hands of Greg and Tamara, especially her son. So David, Snow, Henry, Neal and himself raced down to the mines, straight into certain death, to rescue an evil queen, who frankly Killian saw no need in saving, considering this was entirely her fault to begin with.

One big happy family.

Honestly, the things he did for love.

They whipped around the corner, him bringing up the rear end. Killian's stomach curled when he saw the diamond, much bright and louder than it had been only a mere hour ago. Regina's hands, planted on each side of it, were shaking and he wondered how much longer the Queen could constrain it.

"What are you doing here!?" she asked, shock evident in her voice.

"You were willing to die to save us. That makes you a hero," Henry told her innocently.

Heroic choices and actions, Killian agreed, though he wasn't sure he'd call Regina a hero per se.

"And now we are going to be heroes."

Regina could only shake her head, at lost for words.

"We are going to open a portal and throw this thing into a void," David jumped in.

"No," Regina argued, though Killian caught the shift in her gaze all the same. _Hope._ "You don't know that it'll work."

"We have to try," Snow said, hopeful as always.

"Everybody step aside," David told them before nodding at Neal.

Since Neal seemed to have the most experience with portals, none of them argued when he offered to do the deed. Carefully, he took out a single bean before tossing the satchel to Killian. He caught it against his chest. It took a great amount of effort on his part to not bolt for his ship that instant and let the 'heroes' finish the task. They only needed one bean and he very much doubted that they needed his help any longer. He could leave now. He could take the remaining bean and go save his Swan.

But something held him back and he watched as Neal placed the bean right beneath the diamond. He watched as it opened up in what he could only describe as a swirling, green vortex of doom, very similar to the one Cora had created back in the Enchanted Forest. He watched as Regina used what little strength she had left to throw the diamond into that void. He watched as the vortex sucked it up, roaring so loud before exploding into silence, so quickly, that he thought his eardrums had burst.

When he looked back up, the diamond and the portal were gone.

Just like that, Storybrooke was saved.

And now, time to save Emma.

 **xXxXxXxXx**

Killian spent the better part of the hour pacing back in forth in Snow White's loft. Regina had put David under a sleeping curse, doing some witchcraft to pinpoint exactly where Emma was. Not that he needed magic to tell him where she was. He just needed to know _when_ she was…if that was even right? Killian let out a heavy sigh and ran his hand through his head. Bloody hell, time travel was utterly confusing.

"Why are you here?" came an all too familiar voice.

Killian whirled around, surprised to find Baelfire standing _right_ behind him. For a moment, Killian could only see the boy who grew up on his ship all those years ago and Killian forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat. He did not intend to let his emotion get the best of him (again), though, similar to that morning, he couldn't seem to push them aside and without thinking, he threw his arms around Bae and pulled him in close.

"What the hell are you doing?" Neal questioned him awkwardly.

After a moment, Killian pulled away and clasped his hand on Bae's shoulder. Neal. His name was Neal here and somehow it didn't seem right. In another life, Bae very well could have been his son.

"Sometimes when I look at you all I see is a man. I forget that beneath, you're still that boy I looked after all those years ago."

"I haven't forgotten," Bae told him after a moment.

"We got caught up in so much nonsense," Killian told him, the closest he would get to an apology.

Before either of them could comment further, a gasp from the other room interrupted their thoughts. Killian and Neal took one knowing look at each other before racing to the back bedroom. Killian spotted Snow first, who was clutching at a now very awake David.

"Did you talk to her?" Snow asked eagerly, hope evident in her voice.

"Did you find her!?" Henry echoed.

David's eyes darted around the room, clearly searching for somebody. When David spotted him in the back, his eyes grew dark—a look Killian knew all too well.

"Hook," David whispered.

Killian pushed down the bile building up in his stomach. As stupid as it was, he had hope that the bean hadn't sent her to Neverland. That perhaps Regina would have some magical plan to bring her back.

How incredibly foolish of him.

"What?"

"She said…she said she's with Hook," he said this as if he was trying to comprehend it himself.

"Hook?" Snow said, clearly confused. Her eyes darted between himself and David. "But that's impossible…."

Killian paled. Then angrily, he glanced at the Queen, who was leaning against the wall, massaging her temples and looking like she could collapse at any moment. "You bloody said you could get her back," Killian shouted at her.

"No," Regina snapped, slightly surprised at his outburst. "I said I could find out where she is. I didn't say I could get her back." Then her eyes snapped back to David. "And time travel is not possible."

David's brows shot together. "You think I'm lying?" he shot back.

That did it. The room irrupted into utter chaos. As the prince, Snow, the Queen and Neal, shouted at each other, Killian quietly moved towards the door. They hardly noticed him slip from the room, each one too preoccupied in blaming each other for Emma's tragedy. He made his way outside, the cold hitting him like a bucket of ice water.

Not that he cared.

He was tired, so utterly tired, that he wondered how he was going to find the strength to move on. He felt empty and lost and incredibly shaken. Still, he reached into his pocket and grasped at the remaining magic bean. He may have failed stopping Emma from falling into Neverland, but perhaps he could still save her after all.

This _had_ to be it.

If it wasn't….

Killian swallowed his emotions, refusing to acknowledge that this magic bean was his last hope. He held onto that small beacon and made his way back to his ship.

He hardly made two steps onto the Jolly when a fiery sensation burned through his temples. By the time he realized what was happening, Greg was looming over him with a baseball bat in his hands.

The savage blow knocked him completely off his feet and unprepared for the brutal attack, he hit the ground hard. He tried to block his fall with his hand, but by doing so, the bean slipped from his fingers and skidded widely across the floor before disappearing under a crate. His ears were ringing, his head was pounding and his vision kept going in and out of focus. The only thing that seemed to register was the warm, sticky flow of blood seeping down his forehead.

"We don't take betrayal lightly, Hook," came Greg's voice.

Then Tamara's, "There's been a change of plans."

Instinctively, he began to crawl back, away from Greg. But he only made it two feet before Greg pulled him back, and this time when Greg hit him over the head, he lost consciousness completely.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: SO don't hate me, but this is the last chapter. I have thought about continuing this story into season three, but I'm not entirely convinced I would never finish.**

 ** _Enjoy_**

 **Forgetting Neverland**

 **Chapter 20**

Emma eyed what she could only describe as a very old cabin—if you could even call it that. It was incredibly old, with its missing panels and a roof that almost seemed to cave in on itself, waiting to collapse at any moment. She imagined descending into that cabin, leading to long dark hallways, deep below the Earth. Not to mention it had gotten exceptionally dark and dreary out. Something that usually formed at the ominous décor of a horror movie. Emma glanced around and couldn't help but notice that a fog had begun to roll in.

 _Excellent._

"He's down there?" Emma asked in disbelief.

Gold stood straight and confidently next to her with his hands clasped in front of him. He gave no indication of fear or hint that he was lying to her. The man infuriated her, still he did as she had asked him—well maybe. She hadn't actually found Killian yet and it wouldn't have surprised her if Gold were playing her. However, when she looked at him now, she could see he was telling her the truth. Her spirits fell, knowing no good could come out of this.

Gold gave her a look. His patience was clearly growing thin with her. "Yes. He has been there since your heroic parents saved the day," he told her bitterly.

"He's been there a _week?"_ Emma asked, unable to help herself.

It made sense. Her mother had said Killian had disappeared after they had thrown the bean in the portal. They all assumed he was working for Greg and Tamara, so of course they wouldn't have bothered searching for him. Killian meant nothing to them. To her mother, he was the guy who had been working for Cora, the one who had left them to fend for themselves in the Enchanted Forest. To her father and Regina, he was the guy who was working for Greg and Tamara. To Neal…well…Emma wasn't entirely sure what Hook meant to Neal anymore.

But to her… Emma swallowed the lump in her throat. She couldn't deny what Killian meant to her and for a terrible moment, she feared that she wouldn't get the chance to tell him.

She loved him.

There she admitted it. _She loved him and she wasn't going to get a chance to tell him._

Emma pushed the thought away, refusing to accept that fact. Her entire life people always left her. But not with him. In fact, he had spent centuries finding his way back to her. Killian was different. She would find him, just like he had found her and when she did, she wasn't going to hold anything back.

"What would Greg and Tamara possibly want with Hook?"

"That is not my concern," came Gold's calm reply.

 _Lie._

She wouldn't call him out on it though, very much knowing Gold had the upper hand here. She hated him for it.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked when really she was asking _why should I trust you?_

Gold shrugged. Clearly, whether she trusted him or not, wasn't a concern of his either. "I said I would help find your pirate. I didn't say I would help save him." There was no point in arguing with him, she decided. Very well then. It wasn't like she trusted him anyway. She watched him turn away, back the way they came, when he paused and turned back around to face her. "Oh and Miss Swan?" Gold said, eyebrows raised and glancing at her phone. "I was never here."

She gave him the smallest of nods, knowing better than to argue with him. She glanced down at her phone, relieved to find that she still had some service.

David answered her on the first ring. "Emma," he said, seemingly relieved.

She rolled her eyes. Really? She knew they were worried about her, but it had only been a couple hours.

"I'm fine," she cut in before he could bother asking. She trailed off, not entirely sure how to go about her next piece of information. She took a deep breath and decided to just go for it. "I know where Greg and Tamara are…well…at least I think I do. They have Hook."

There she said it.

There was silence on the other end and she wondered if David had thought she had gone crazy. Actually, correction. They already thought she was crazy. Good, she thought. It would make them come faster.

"What…you found Hook?" David asked eventually.

Of course, they would be more concerned with her finding Hook rather than her finding the two people who had tried to _blow up their freakin' town._ "Yes," she repeated, unable to help the irritation seeping its way into her voice. "And Greg and Tamara."

"How?"

"It doesn't matter," she told him, unable to think of an excuse. "Come quickly. It's about a half mile north of the troll bridge. There's some sort of cabin out here. I think they are keeping him in there."

"Okay. Just wait there. We will come find you. We will put an end to this together."

"Okay," she said and hung up on him, giving him the false hope he needed.

Emma eyed the shed, debating her options. She had left her gun back at the loft. _Of course._ Still, she wasn't completely defenseless. Her magic ran deep beneath her veins, anchoring itself within her heart and when she thought about Killian, she felt it jolt to life. She knew one thing for certain, she wasn't going to wait for her parents for back up. Not when Killian had spent centuries trying to find her. She owed him that.

Emma fiddled with his ring. She wasn't brave, though many assumed otherwise. Many people mistook her fear for bravery. She did things out of love and stupidity, not because she was brave. But eyeing the cabin now, she pushed her fear aside because damn it, she loved that man held being captive in there, and frankly, Greg and Tamara didn't know what was coming for them.

 **xXxXxXxXx**

When Killian finally woke, he realized that at least several hours had passed since Greg and Tamara's last visit. They came every so often to give him food and water or beat him if he got too cheeky. Their idea of torture had quickly escalated, though despite the bruises covering his face and body, this still wasn't the worst that someone had inflicted upon him. He did not remember falling asleep, but he suspected that he only succumbed due to a combination of pure exhaustion, the undying silence and boredom

Killian wasn't sure how long he'd been in the cell for; but he knew it had been for quite sometime. Without any windows, Killian had already lost count of the days, as well as the hours, the minutes that had gone by. Time matter little though when you were waiting to die and didn't care enough to stop it form happening.

Emma Swan was dead. He had failed her. Centuries looking for a way to save her life and he had failed her. Perhaps whatever Greg and Tamara had planned for him, wasn't such a bad thing. In fact, he planned to welcome death like an old friend.

He was looking forward to it.

Unfortunately for him, today was not that day.

Killian shifted on the ground. They had sprained his ankle, making escape much more difficult than he had hoped. They also had his wrists handcuffed in a way that he couldn't slip his stub out of and they had bloody taken his hook, which pissed him off more than anything else.

Nobody took his hook.

But he was tired

Tired of fighting.

Tired of finding the strength to move on.

The door was thrown open then with a deafening bang. If he hadn't been fully awake a moment ago, he was definitely awake now.

"Rise and shine, Hook."

Killian blinked back the light that was now pouring into the room. It took him a moment to register that both Greg and Tamara had come to pay him a visit. Typically, it was only one or the other, never both.

"And here I was getting worried," he told them, forcing on a smile. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"We are moving you," Tamara told him, matter-of-factly.

Well, he hadn't expected that.

"Our home office put in a special request."

Ah, yes. The 'home office,' which they seemed to know very little about. Killian barked out a laugh. "I'm honored. Truly." Then after a moment, he asked, "If I'm going to die, then I'd like the pleasure of knowing who put in this special request. Surely, you can understand that, as a man's dying wish. "

"It doesn't matter," Greg told him. "And you're not dying." And then as an after though, "yet anyway."

"What matters is that they want you," Tamara finished for him. "We were told you two didn't end on the best of terms and he would like you to pay him a visit."

Killian's mind raced. He had betrayed a countless number of people over the years. It could have been anyone and as long as it wasn't Rumpelstiltskin, he didn't care who did the deed. Killian didn't particularly believe in much. He was never one for faith, as the universe had a funny way of collapsing in on him. However, despite all of this, he had to believe that one day Emma and him would meet again, even if it was in a different life.

"Then what are we waiting for?" he asked.

Greg and Tamara shared a knowing smile. Apparently, that information wasn't up to share. "You'll see," Tamara said, giving him a wicked grin.

Greg knelt down and pulled out a ring of keys, before muttering something about no funny business and trying to escape. Killian rolled his eyes. Tamara had her gun pointed directly at his head. He wouldn't have tried anything anyway, for even though she was a terrible shot, she was much too close to miss him this time and with his sprained ankle, he wasn't entirely sure he had the strength to take on both of them.

"I hope you don't mind. Rumpelstiltskin secured your ship for us."

Killian's eyes narrowed into two thin slits. "And what happened to killing every magical creature in this town?"

Greg shrugged. "Like I said. There has been a change of plans," he told him, as if that answered everything.

"You shouldn't make deals with the crocodile," he sneered.

He somehow doubted Greg and Tamara's 'home office' led back to Rumpelstiltskin. The crocodile didn't work with others, the man worked alone, though he'd imagine if someone wanted him dead, Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't hesitate to help. Before he could taunt them with something more, there was a loud bang from somewhere outside the room. Their heads all whipped towards the noise.

The two glanced at each other. Whoever their visitor was, Greg and Tamara certainly hadn't invited.

"Are you going to get that? Or should I?" Killian taunted. "Shouldn't keep your guest waiting."

Tamara shot him a dirty look before glancing back at her partner. "Watch him. I'll check it out," Tamara told him, gun raised as she disappeared out the door.

Greg took a step back from Killian and a step closer to the door. Greg hadn't unlocked his chains completely, but he had loosened them just enough for Killian to slip his bad wrist out of. No longer chained, his survival instincts seemed to kick into overdrive. The pain in his ankle no longer seemed to matter.

Perhaps he wasn't ready to die after all.

Another loud bang came from somewhere down the hall. Greg raced to the door and glanced down the hallway. With his back turned, Killian took his chance. Killian threw his body at Greg, attacking him from behind. Thankfully, the element of surprise seemed to play in his favor and Killian was able to wrap his arm around Greg's neck, cutting off his oxygen supply. Greg's hand flew to Killian's face, scratching him in the process, but Killian didn't budge. Even when they stumbled heavily into the wall behind them, Killian did not loosen his grip.

Only when Greg went limp in his arms, did Killian finally loosen his hold. Breathing heavily, Killian lowered the man to the ground. Greg still had a pulse; he hadn't killed him, so Killian took his chain and locked it around Greg's ankle, ensuring that if Greg did wake up, he wasn't planning on coming after him anytime soon.

He glanced down the hallway, annoyed that he only had one option and that was to head _towards_ the bang. Killian breathed out a heavy sigh, wondering how on earth he was going to avoid Tamara and her gun. He only hoped that she was much too preoccupied with their unwelcomed visitor to notice him slip by.

 **xXxXxXxXx**

Emma cursed at the loud noise, which echoed loudly out around her. If Greg and Tamara hadn't known she was there before, they certainly did now. Emma glanced at the _one_ piece of furniture she had managed to knock over, the vase now shattered across the floor. _Really?_ It was certainly no accident they had put this where they did and it was a clever make shift alarm, she had to admit. Now was not the time to dwell, though. Tamara and Greg would be upon her in seconds… that is if they were even home.

Emma glanced around the small home, wondering where on Earth they could have been keeping Killian. Just like the outside, the inside was just as tattered and depressing. It was one room with a kitchen and a door that she imagined led to a basement.

Of course. A basement. They just had to be keeping him in a basement.

Emma swallowed her fear as she glanced down the staircase. It seemed to lead into an all-consuming darkness. Taking in a deep breath, she began her descent. The stairs, creaking annoying loud, sounded like an alarm, blaring through the cabin and alerting everyone inside that she was trespassing.

When she reached the bottom of the steps, she was surprised to find not a room, but a long, daunting and dim-lit hallway before her. This was certainly no ordinary basement. No, she thought. This wasn't even a basement. It was too much of a labyrinth to be that. The walls and floor weren't even finished and they were covered in rock and dirt. The walls were low too, enough to make her feel like she couldn't breathe, as if someone took a shovel and built a tunnel themselves.

This was an escape route, she thought, and she wondered exactly where it even led out or _why_ for that matter, would someone even need an escape route for.

Emma fought the urge to call out for him. He could have been anywhere down here—that is, if he was even down there. He had to be though. She couldn't deny the pull of her heart, tugging her along. It was a feeling she couldn't explain, she just knew he was here. Every cell in her body was screaming at her to flee, but her heart spoke louder. She wasn't leaving without him.

Emma wrapped around another bend, when her head snapped back, so suddenly, she hardly had time to process the ringing in her ears or the pounding in her head.

"You shouldn't have come here," Tamara's voice echoed out. "You just never learn."

Emma's senses snapped back much quicker than she anticipated. Out of pure instinct, she shot out her arm, smacking Tamara right in the face. If there was one thing for certain, it was that Emma was no princess. She had grown up learning how to fight and fend for herself. Too many broken homes and a life on the run had taught her plenty.

Tamara, unfortunately for her, wasn't a princess either. She had learned a thing or two over the years.

Tamara threw a punch, clocking Emma right in the chest. That's when she felt it. The tingling in the tips of her fingers, the ache in her heart. Using all her strength, she threw Tamara off her. Then thrusting her hands outs in front of her, Emma pulled at that tingling sensation. A jolt of white light shot from her hands, reeling Tamara back against the wall. The light retreated back with a loud crack and Emma anchored it back inside her chest. She smiled, unable to help herself. She was getting much better at this.

Tamara pulled herself up quickly, and this time when Tamara turned to face her, Emma found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. Emma froze, not sure if her magic would be quick enough or strong enough to stop a bullet from piercing her skin.

"I just want Killian," Emma told her.

"Love," Tamara said, clicking off the safety. "Love is weakness."

"No," she whispered. Her magic hummed beneath her skin. When Tamara pulled the trigger, she would be ready. "Love is strength."

There was a loud bang and Emma catapulted her magic towards that sound. Still, Emma couldn't help but close her eyes and wince, waiting for the pain that would never come. Emma peaked open an eye, surprised to find Tamara staring at her with a dazed expression. The bang hadn't come from the gun, it had come from something else. The gun slipped from Tamara's hand and she fell to her knees before face planting onto to the cold, hard ground, knocked out cold.

Emma stood, stunned, for a moment, as she stared at Tamara who was now unconscious on the ground. Then she glanced back up and her breath hitched in her throat.

 _Killian._

He was standing before her, looking much worse for wear, and holding a two-by-four tightly in his hand. He too seemed stunned, looking at her through his good eye with a dazed expression, as if he was trying to make out if she was actually standing there in front of him or if it was just his mind playing ticks on him.

"Swan?" he whispered weakly.

He let the plank of wood fall from his hand. When she saw his eyes glaze over, she raced to him, catching him right before he hit the ground. Killian collapsed into her arms. Unable to support his weight, she lowered them to the ground.

"I got you," she whispered, pulling him in tight. She leaned back slightly to get a better look at him; she nearly choked on a sob, unable to process all the bruises, and scratches Greg and Tamara had bestowed upon him. And this world called Hook a villain. "Oh…Killian," she whispered.

Her magic could fix him she thought, but her blood ran cold beneath her veins. Through bruised eyes, he just stared at her, dazed and confused. Even when he reached out to cradle her cheek with his hand, he seemed like he was far off. Only when his eyes traveled down to the ring he had given her, placed over her heart, did he seem to accept the fact that she was actually there with him.

"Emma…?" he asked, nothing more than a whisper.

"It's me."

"Am I dead?"

She let out a shaky laugh, unable to help herself. "No," she told him, doing her best to hold back a sob. Only when he brought a hand to caress her face, did he let himself accept the fact that she was really there.

"You're…you're alive. How?"

She shook her head. A tear all the same escaped. He used his thumb to wipe it away. "It doesn't matter," she told him. Then after a moment, she breathed, "You didn't take the potion."

"I didn't take the potion," he echoed back

 **xXxXxXxXx**

 _Emma._

She was alive. She was really here. With him. Rumpelstiltskin had not ended up taking her life. She was alive and…he took in a deep breath, fighting back the emotion overcoming him. His heart felt incredibly full and he had trouble recounting the events that had since unfolded. He grasped her hand tightly in his, as he led her back to his ship, which Rumpelstiltskin, like Cora had shielded with magic, making it only visible to those who knew where to find it.

When he told her this, Emma's eyes grew into thin slits and when he questioned her on her skepticism, she surprised him with her reply _because Gold told me where they were hiding you._

He didn't know what to make of that. Why hide his ship for Greg and Tamara, only to tell Emma where Greg and Tamara were hiding him? It made no sense, but Rumpelstiltskin rarely did. He was a beast who only cared and worked for himself.

"I called David. There's no sign of Greg and Tamara," he vaguely heard Emma tell him.

He was hardly listening, unable to bring himself to care that Greg and Tamara had somehow escaped while Emma and him had their backs turned, much too preoccupied with each other. It felt like a dream and he feared that if he were to close his eyes, he'd wake up only to find that was all this was. A dream. But Emma… _Oh Gods…_ she was here, alive and well, and standing in front of him more beautiful than ever. It wasn't possible. He couldn't wrap his mind around it, and yet she was here.

Alive.

With him.

He grasped her hand just a little tighter, afraid that she would disappear from him entirely and he'd be left with nothing.

"Killian…" she said softly.

He was still having trouble thinking of little else but that his _Swan was alive._ He glanced at her, wanting to say so much, yet he couldn't find the words to express exactly what he was feeling. She must have sensed his inner turmoil, or perhaps she felt it too.

"It's okay," she told him. "Come on…let's fix you up."

She took him to his cabin, a place that they had both made home all those years ago. _Home._ He was finally home, he realized, and not because he was back on the Jolly, but because he had found _her._

Emma gently pushed him to sit on his bed and he obliged. She took a seat next to him, their legs touching.

"Hold still," she whispered.

Then using her magic, she placed her palm on his cheek. A white glow began to radiate from her hand and Killian relaxed at the warmth of her touch. He felt the bruises fad away, his anxiety along with them. For the first time, in an incredibly long time, Killian felt at peace. Only when she brushed away a tear, did he realize that he was crying.

"I see you've been practicing," he whispered, anything to ease the tension.

While the magic had faded away the bruises, leaving him brand new, it couldn't and would never be able to erase the ache in his heart. Nothing was that powerful.

 _Emma was alive._

"Killian…"

He looked her in the eyes, which were green and full of life. Exactly as he remembered them. "Yes love?"

"Why didn't you take the potion to help you forget? If you thought I died…"

He gave her a weak smile, and intertwined their hands once more. "Surely you know, Emma."

She dropped her gaze, ashamed and she couldn't figure out as to why. A part of her felt at fault for all his pain and torment. For her, it had only been a couple days, yet for him he had spent centuries finding his way back to her.

She couldn't even imagine.

"And your revenge?" she whispered.

"All for you, Emma. It was always you."

He was looking at her now in a similar way David looked at Mary Margaret. She was right. He looked at her, holding her gaze, refusing to look anywhere else. He never wanted to forget this moment. Killian had never loved another person more.

"I love you," she blurted out, beating him to the punch line.

Before she could say another word, Killian's lips came crashing down onto hers. She returned the kiss, desperate and needing. They held onto each other, both aware and unaware of the time that bounded them. In Neverland, they had an eternity. In Storybrooke, there would always be some monster or villain to defeat and it was only a matter of time before their quiet moment was ruined. They were each other's sanctuary—a safe place in troubling world.

Stars exploded behind their eyes. When they kissed, it ignited a fire in their hearts. When they touched, it felt like their skin was on fire. When they looked at each other, they only saw the world. Killian pushed her back to lie down on the bed, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist. He kissed his way down her neck and back up, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. She returned his gestures, doing everything to show him just how much she loved him.

They weren't rough or fast. They took their time. They _needed_ to take their time because quiet moments did not come often around here and now that they had one, they needed to make it last. And it was perfect, exactly as it should be.

They undressed each other slowly, savoring every kiss, every moan, every touch. Still kissing her, he let his hand explore her body, remembering and doing everything that made his Swan breathless and come undone at the seams. When he found her breast, he pinched her nipple, causing her to gasp. He traveled down a little further to slip a finger inside.

"Oh God," Emma hummed.

Gods, he missed her. He missed _them_. She was biting her lip and withering around him. If she continued making those noises, however, he wasn't going to last much longer. Thankfully, Emma was on the same page as him.

"I need you," she huffed, unable to wait any longer.

Killian pulled back, just enough so that his forehead rested against hers. He had a peculiar expression on his face, hopeful and one so full of love, that she wondered how it was even possible for him to hold that much emotion in a single gaze. "What is it?" she asked him quietly, afraid that with one misplaced breath, this moment between them would shatter.

"I keep thinking…that this is all a dream. That I will wake up and I'll be left with nothing…" his breath hitched in the back of his throat, overcome with love and sadness. He wasn't ashamed to let her see this side of him. He had spent far too long searching for her for him to block her out.

"I'm alive," she whispered with a kiss. He kissed her back. "I'm alive," she repeated with another, this time he guided himself towards her center. "I'm alive," she gasped, as he slid into her, slowly.

"You're alive," he whispered back, letting her welcome him in, all of him.

He began to move, gently and slowly at first, desperately wanting to make this last as long as he physically could. Emma's breath hitched in the back of her throat. They were going to be each other's undoing, she was sure of it. As they moved together, Emma could hear, or rather feel, their hearts beating in perfect unison, beating as one. Emma tightened her hold on the back of his neck and shifted her ankles to lock upon his lower back. He dove in deeper at the sudden shift and they both moaned in content.

Killian's lips moved from hers to the crook of her neck. "Gods, Emma," he gasped into her ear. He was close. He could feel it. His heart ached for her and only her.

"I love you so much, Swan," he gasped, emotion raw and true.

His confession made her heart ache and unable to contain it any longer, her magic exploded around them, wrapping them in a warm, white glow. The candles in his cabin all ignited with a hiss. When she tightened around him, he knew she was close and Gods help him, that he didn't embarrass himself before she came first.

"That's it, love," he whispered in her ear.

And that was enough. His voice in her ear, husky with love and affection, was enough. She came undone around him and he followed shortly after her. They were both a sweaty mess when he nearly collapsed on top of her. Still, he didn't pull away from her, afraid to let her go, afraid to close his eyes, even though his exhaustion was excruciating. He gave her one last kiss, taking it slow, breathing life into her once more.

He was convinced that if he gave into his exhaustion now, he'd wake up in the morning to find an empty bed. Her essence was that fragile in his mind, that vulnerable.

And if that happened, he would die.

Killian couldn't lose her. Not again.

 _Not again._

"You're trembling," she whispered, pulling him out of his dark thoughts.

"Don't worry. I'll be alright," he told her.

She must have caught his lie, but she said nothing, perhaps because she was thinking the same thing. Instead, she ran her hand through his hair and gave him a soft smile. Then she gently kissed him on the forehead before wrapping her arms around him. He let his head fall onto her chest and he could feel her pounding heart starting to return to a normal pace.

"I love you," he breathed out because he needed to rid himself of these emotions. They were heavy and raw and they were weighing him down.

There was a brief pause. "I love you, too."

His heart soared because Emma was here with him, an open book for him to see and she wasn't running away. It was wonderful, inspiring, breathtaking. It was a whirlwind of emotions and he didn't know what to do with them all.

"Killian," Emma said. "Go to sleep." Then sensing his fear, "I'm not going anywhere."

Together, they fell into a peaceful sleep, something neither had in an awfully long time.

 **xXxXxXxXx**

Emma awoke much too early from the slumbers of a peaceful sleep for her liking. She attempted to roll over and smiled when she found that she couldn't due to Killian's arm, currently and tightly secured around her waist. She watched him for a moment, the gentle fall and rise of his chest beneath her palm, which currently rested above his heart. She could hear the even beating of it as well, which synced with her own. He looked so peaceful like this. She wondered when the last time he had truly slept. If it were any indication of how she spent the last couple of days, then she'd imagine not very well at all.

She had no idea how he managed centuries.

When her phone begun buzzing somewhere on the floor, the sound muffled by all their clothes, she realized what it was that had probably waken her. Very carefully, she attempted to wiggle her way out of his grip, doing her best not to wake him.

She failed miserably. The moment, the warmth of his body left hers, he jolted awake.

Killian gasped awake. He hadn't screamed or cried out, and if she would have missed the panic in his eyes, she would have thought he was perfectly fine. But he wasn't fine and she wondered how he would ever get over the pain of thinking she had died all those years ago.

"Hey. Easy there, Tiger. I'm right here."

He blinked a couple times, before his eyes fully adjusted. He looked tired, despite the amount of sleep they had gotten and she suddenly felt bad for even bothering to check her phone. Whoever it was could leave a message. She gave him a kiss, to which he returned. As she got lost in his kiss, she forgot about the nuisance buzzing on the floor.

"Love, I believe your shirt is buzzing," he said between kisses.

She groaned, wishing that whoever it was would leave her be. Was a quiet moment too much to ask? She pulled away all the same and chuckled. "It's not my shirt." Then reaching over the bed, she leaned down and began to shift through the pile of clothing on the floor.

Ah ha!

"Ah, the talking device," Killian said skeptically, unfamiliar with this world's modern thingamajigs.

"It's called a phone," she told him, amused.

Then looking back at it, her stomached dropped. Eight missed calls. Four from Neal, three from David and even one from _Regina._ What in the world. And just like that, their quiet moment was gone. Her heart began beating loudly in her chest. _Relax. They are probably just wondering where the hell you are._ But it had only been a couple hours and she knew they wouldn't have worried about her quite this soon.

"What's wrong love?" Killian asked, sensing something was wrong.

"I don't know," she muttered. "I have eight missed calls…." She trailed off as she scrolled through the numbers and names on her phone. It had to be about Greg and Tamara. _They found them,_ she hoped, though deep within her heart, she knew they weren't calling her for good news.

She tried David's cell first, mostly because she wasn't sure if she could stomach talking to Neal after her shenanigans with Killian. David picked up on the first ring.

"Emma," he breathed out, relieved. "We've been trying to reach you."

It was a tone she recognized, an all too familiar one unfortunately.

"What's wrong?" she asked him.

And just when she thought things would be okay, her whole world came crashing back down. This time, when she fell, she wasn't sure how she'd ever pick herself back up.

 **xXxXxXxXx**

"Relax," Tamara told him. "We are not going to hurt you."

"Just everyone I love." Henry shouted, aghast. "You tried to blow up Storybrooke!"

"True but that was never the point," Tamara said this so confidently, so honestly, that Henry paused, and for a moment, he even stopped struggling.

"It wasn't?"

"We came here to destroy magic, Henry," Greg told him. "But then we found something more important. Something that changed everything." Greg stopped walking to look him straight in the eye. Henry swallowed hard, dreading and somehow knowing exactly what Greg was going to say next. "You," Greg confirmed his deepest fear.

 **xXxXxXxXx**

The world had a funny way of pulling the rug out from beneath your feet. Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, they did. They always did. There was never a quiet moment. There was always some villain to face. The world was never sunshine and roses, the way most children grew up believing. But she wasn't like most children. She had grown up believing that the world was a dark and miserable place and the reality of her situation was, that bad things would just continue to happen.

"What do you mean they took him?" Emma shouted at Regina, who was standing across from her now, arms crossed over her chest. They were gathered by the docks, right near Killian's ship and apparently right near where Greg and Tamara had taken Henry.

 _She had been right there. She could have saved him._

It didn't make sense. They had wanted Killian, not Henry. She should have known, she thought. She should have seen it coming and she would never forgive herself for this. There was no coming back from losing a child.

"My fault?" Regina asked, incredulously. "And just where were you Miss Swan when all this was happening?" Regina asked knowingly, giving Killian a pointed look.

Her cheeks flamed red. Regina and perhaps Henry were the only ones who really knew about her and Hook, or at least suspected. They had both been there when she asked Regina to put her under a sleeping curse to contact him and she had showed him the ring he had given her. Her parents had their suspicions, of course, but they didn't truly know. Still, it was a low blow on Regina's part and if her mother hadn't showed up the moment she did, Emma was certain all of hell would have broken loose.

"Emma!"

Emma's head turned at the familiar voice and found her mother, David and Neal racing towards them. She didn't miss the way her mother's eyes flickered to Killian's, clearly conflicted with him being there. Though, thankfully, she choose not to comment on that.

"We have to find him. We can't just stand here!" Emma said, growing frustrated.

"You don't even know where they took him," Snow tried again.

"Doesn't matter. I will track them down in hell if I have to," Emma returned.

"But they took the last bean," Regina argued.

"Actually, not quite," Killian commented, the first thing he had said sense he arrived.

Again, he found himself being stared down by five pair of eyes, making him feel incredibly uncomfortable. Despite Emma's reassurance that he was fine, the others didn't seem too keen on him being there.

"You have a magic bean?" Regina asked, disbelief evident in her voice.

"There's one back on my ship," he assured them. "I dropped it when Greg and Tamara ambushed me."

Neal's eyes grew skeptical. "You took it," he stated, finally dawning on him. "The last bean."

"Pirate," Killian offered, though no one seemed to buy it.

Emma didn't miss the way Neal's eyes darted between her and Killian. She looked away, feeling guilty and unable to meet his eye.

"I offer my ship and services to help follow them," Killian told them before they could ask any further questions.

Thankfully, the Queen was much too preoccupied with finding her son to care. "That's great, Hook but how will we track them."

"Leave that to me," a voice spoke from behind.

They all whirled around to find Gold and Belle. Out of instinct, Killian took a small step closer to Emma. The Crocodile may not have killed Emma exactly, but Rumpelstiltskin had done enough damage to his soul and he didn't plan on dropping his thirst for revenge altogether.

"I can get us where we need to go," Mr. Gold told them, though he only spoke to Neal.

"Let's do it," Snow said, without hesitation and Killian wondered how she could trust him so easily after everything he had done to them, after everything he had done to _Emma._ That was when he realized that they didn't know.

About anything.

About Neverland.

About _them._

Killian swallowed the lump in throat, unsure of what it meant, but he refused to think about that now. He shot Emma a look and then to Neal, neither of whom said anything at all. They seemed conflicted, like him, for they all knew Rumpelstiltskin did have the power to track Henry. The very thought of bringing his enemy onto his ship was agonizing, but Emma was and always would be his main priority. It was Neal who gave the final nod and Emma let out a sigh of relief.

Killian led them to his ship, including the Crocodile, in silence. A million thoughts were running through his head. He had just got Emma back, only to have her son taken from her.

"So are you done trying to kill me yet?" the Crocodile taunted him, as he climbed up onto the deck.

Even though Rumpelstiltskin had not actually succeeded in killing Emma, Killian didn't think he could ever forget or forgive all those years of pain and torment of truly believing his Swan had perished. Still, if he flat out told him no, they wouldn't be getting Emma's son back and he hated the fact that the Crocodile held so much leverage over him now.

"I believe so," he forced out through gritted teeth.

"Excellent. Then you can live."

Killian choose to hold his tongue on that one, accepting there were far greater things at stake than seeking revenge on the Dark One. When Rumpelstiltskin pricked his finger with the needle, just enough to draw blood, the corners of Killian's mouth tugged upwards into a grin. So the Crocodile could bleed after all. He imagined himself driving a sword through Rumpelstiltskin heart. For now, that distant dream was enough to get him through with whatever journey laid ahead of them.

The red began to swirl, forming a painting of mountains and coastlines. His heart began to sink even before the scarlet of red stopped forming. Even when he heard Emma's sharp intake of breath, he refused to believe that Greg and Tamara had taken the lad to that wretched place.

It wasn't possible.

It was Neal, though, who actually voiced their thoughts out loud. "It…It can't be."

Still, as the coastlines formed and that bright blue ocean and the rolling mountains came into view, Killian couldn't deny it. Just like that, everything seemed to click. Pan. Of course Greg and Tamara's home office would lead them straight back to the depths of hell.

"What is that? Where did they take Henry?" Regina, asked panic filling her voice.

Neverland meant nothing to her or the Charmings, but they weren't blind to the looks of dread mirroring their faces either. Even Rumpelstiltskin shared a look very similar to his own.

"Neverland," he breathed out.

He was in denial. It wasn't bloody possible. He had spent years trying to escape that place and now he was going back, willingly, with his enemy as his guest. It was pure madness, and yet a part of him must have realized the truth of their situation because he found himself shouting out orders. They needed to prepare his ship. Killian wasn't entirely sure if the Jolly could even withstand another portal. She would though, just like she had gotten him through everything else in the last 300 hundreds. He shouted about orders, and not one of them argued. They went about, checking the sails and such in silence. But when a child's life depended on it, Killian imagined not much else mattered.

Emma was at the wheel, lost in thought. To say he was worried about her was an understatement. Returning to Neverland would mean nothing good for either of their states of minds. He knew better than to ask if she was okay. Instead, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Killian?"

"Yes, love?"

She was fiddling with the ring he had given her. "How'd you do it? How'd you find me," she asked.

He didn't find it strange that she was only asking him this now. If he had found her, even centuries later, then surely he'd be able to find Henry as well. The truth of the matter was, that he was afraid. He was afraid to go back to the place that had nearly killed her. He was afraid that he would fail her. He was afraid that he would loose her entirely. But he couldn't show or tell her any of this because she needed him now. She needed him to be the strong one.

Killian gave her a weak smile, before grabbing her arm and pulling her in close, not caring if the others saw them like this. "We were written in the stars, love. All that separated us was time," he whispered to her and only her.

Time.

It had separated her from her parents. From Killian. From Henry.

"When you love someone," Killian continued, "The only thing that can separate you is the time it takes to read a map...the same map that has been placed within both of your hearts to find your way back to one another."

As Killian told her this, she finally understood why her parents were never worried about always finding one another.

Because they would always find each other.

In this life or the next. They would find each other.

"I can't lose him, Killian," Emma said, not quite sure if she was admitting this to him or herself. "I need to get my son back."

"You will, Swan."

"You really think that?"

"I have yet to see you fail, love. When you do succeed…well, that's where the fun beings," he said, corners of his mouth tugging upwards.

She mirrored his smile, unable to help herself. Despite the fear building up in the pit of her stomach, she knew she'd be able to get Henry back. She'd do anything to save him, just as she would do anything to save Killian and her parents. She'd do _anything_ to save the people she loved.

Even if it meant the impossible or to face certain death.

Even if it meant returning to Neverland.

THE END (For Now)

 ** _A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed! For now, this is the end. I may continue to update this story into season three one day, but I fear that I would not finish it and leave you guys with a terrible cliffhanger. Though I suppose in some way this was a cliffhanger. lol but I wanted to end it the same way season two did, so there you have it._**

 ** _So for now, this is the end._**

 ** _I hope you enjoyed it. I certainly enjoyed writing it and I can't thank you enough to all who reviewed/favorited this story!_**


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